𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 : 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 | ᏜᏕᏏ

Every set of clothing testimony
To the battles she has fought
Wounds—the map showing where she's been
But dictates her next steps not.

Every piece of enhanced cloth
Stitched together in a tapestry
Which relays a bittersweet tale
Of woeful times, and happy.

Each memory a thread
In her woven ballad —
Crimson for anger, azure for peace,
Midnight for strength in adversity,
Achievements in a shade of faded butter
A thousand hues swirl together at the touch of a side character.

At the very top we have kindergarten.
A developing mind, fearful of growing up.
'Shy' written in bold, 'quiet' screamed out loud
Projects about potatoes before the imminent mushroom cloud.
Incidents with blocks and purple crayons,
Elephants, seashells, made-up songs —
Images slightly fraying but to this day hanging on.

Soft flesh marked with bruises, scars
By remarks that cut sharper than shattered glass;
Her mind a pure white canvas
Stained by words dripping venom; blood.
Her resolve hardened with time,
But her soul remained gentle and kind.
Dropping teeth but putting on a broken smile,
Emotionally an adult, physically a child.
'Friends' who would laugh along but wouldn't be there
When the clouds grew heavy; the weather, less than fair.
Lies, accusations; gossip, fights,
Through it all, she stuck to what was right.

The next institution, she attended not by choice.
In entering; engaging, soft was her voice.
She dreaded every single day,
The burden of having opinions but no say
Would ever on her shoulders weigh
Such that the only things the spoke were lies,
So became her way
She could not herself untie
From the untruth of "I'm okay."
For two years her wrists were so bound,
As she bottled up and drowned in sound.

The tapestry grows long as she grows tall,
And we come to the latest addition of all.
A new chance and fighting stance
Around problems she will no longer dance
She will take the bull called life by its horns
Even if it's dancing 'round in a china shop
She will act as she is warned
Learn when to change lanes; when to stop
So that at the end she won't be mourned
By the people standing about her corpse
For being a fool in her given time
But will wisely navigate the road of life
And hope to reach the final red traffic light
Having for God's glory strived
And as the successful artist of a masterpiece
Rest in everlasting love and peace