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Why



Dreaming of being saved I found myself enslaved.

Hoping for something sent I wasted the energy spent.

Realizing I had crumbled I grew to being humbled.

Discarding everything hateful I switched to being grateful.

No time invested on a ploy I came upon my own joy.

And now when I feel no end in sight

I pick up my pen

And write.


 

I do not have the hands of a whispery breeze

I have the hands of a climber of trees.

I do not have the feet of a traveler afraid

I have the feet of a wanderer tested and made.

I do not have the body of a newborn child

I have the body of a woman wild.


I do not have the mind for tricking or lying

I have the mind for loving and flying.

I do not have the heart of silence dead and cold

I have the heart of tinfoil gold.

And I do not have the spirit of a well rested soul

I have the spirit of a goddess fractured, but whole.


 

She tore through all the pages

skipped over every line

Searching for the names

in the chapters of her time.


She flew past life's lessons

And all her learned mistakes

to find her happy ending

& escape the heartaches.


She quickened through each paper leaf

Missing every spring

eluding every friendship

Avoiding every sting.


Slowly the words grew fuzzy

And began to fade away

you cant just have the roses

you need the whole bouquet.


You cannot have the joyful

without shedding a single tear,

and you cant skip through the book of life

without living all your fears.

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