#WritcoPoemPrompt102

She was simple,
minded her own business,
suffered enormous pain,
amidst the glory,

She was the scaffolding,
her brain was that art,
ready to be constructed newly,
her emotions filled it in parts,

The world was a trophy,
deciding her worth,
with temporal and digital validation,
but she continued to love,

The pen and the paper,
the mighty sword to create,
the words, her heart's whisper,
to bleed blue/black to reciprocate,

She gave herself the voice,
with time and patience,
others left to judge this novice, ...