Final Sonnet

I walk up to my blue and black dresser.

I go pick up my eyeliner pencil.

But then I catch the sight of a letter.

So carefully written on a stencil.

Opening the letter with a great care

Impatient to see what is written inside

Each move that I make is a little dare

I read the letter and feel the cries.

Here I sit in the corner with the pain

Who would have known that words could make change

I feel, all of my blood about to drain 

It does feel very very very strange.

And this is what I felt and thought

The single day that I was caught.