
The weight that she carried
Pressed hard on her bones,
The pain always varied;
In silence it groaned.
She moved mountains, rocks, boulders,
With hands split and worn,
Got older and older,
But never felt born.
Her nails she bit so short,
Begging and pleading just to stop the hurt,
Her prayers fell heavy at heaven’s court,
While shame dug deep in the dirt.
Her scars never spoke truth,
Her smile hid the shame,
Her mind drifted aloof;
Did she know her own name?
Her roots were all tangled,
In soil wet and cold,
Her heart bruised and mangled,
Still did what she’s told.
She stumbles and sways but she never falls,
The chaos only stalls.
The woman she is now
Stands taller than fear,
She escaped it somehow,
But the echoes stay near.
She’s no longer that girl
Who folded and bowed;
She’s walking the world,
Still soft…still proud.


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