Each morning brings pain.
Dont think you can live again?!
What is this thing called rebirth,
when even your ashes have been burnt?
Daily problems taller than towers
tears flow like April Showers...
but even amongst the weeds
can grow a beautiful flower....
You are that mythical bird.
You rise out of the dirt.
Wings a little tattered.
But to the Wind,
that doesn't matter!
If only you looked up...
If only you looked in...
The glass globe would shatter
And you'd find yourself within.
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