And you feel like a flower that wilts,
Fallen to the ground, to be trampled
And curried; this is what happens when
You act hurried, unsure, but sure of
Imaginations profound but unsound
That take over your reality.
The dark cloud has not visited us
In quite a while even though the rains
Are here there is sunshine and smiles;
To know for sure the Truth of becoming
More than you are and possess more
Than you have; to see beyond the horizons
With a vision clear and gold.
The dream is to be the many colours of life,
Somebody's daughter, somebody's sister,
And somebody's wife, not to say life
Is devoid of strife, but joyous about little
Blessings and love that cuts like a knife;
Life is what you make of it, the colours
Of happiness there then reside.
To have a vision golden, big, and powerful
One may rely on discipline to reach the goal;
The gut is strengthened with many happy
Thoughts of forgiveness and courage and
Is nary in a knot, no more wilted, tighter
Than before, strength gathers around
For those now unbound.
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