Wind whistling through the trees
Like melancholy music
Songbirds flying to and fro
Singing their sweet songs
In a field of flowers
Was me, a tiny bud, sprouting slowly
Growing steadily throughout the years
Struggling to grow
Turning black in some places
From sorrow and depression and loneliness
Trying to overcome these obstacles
For many years, for many lifetimes
Finally healing, growing
Turning a lovely shade of red
Still trying to heal from the darkness
Still trying to become light
Still trying to become that
One perfect red rose
YOU ARE READING
Hope and Strength: A Collection of Poems
PoetryA collection of poems written during the most difficult, depressing and challenging times of my life. I write from the heart, very emotional person. I write because I'm sad I write because feelings pour out of me. I write because I am an emotional...
