I suppose it is better
to barely be there
than ashes we scatter
to the atmosphere.
Yet how can I hang
on ridiculous truth?
When swept to the carpet
those days from my youth.
Dash away soft
to a new school of fashion.
Here my life sits
snapped slim within ration.
Complain I will not
under barely a whisper.
Was it worth every pain
through each struggle and blister?
Now I am faced with
this death star illusion.
Break map to the pavement
and seek new conclusion.
Or dance into maddening
stars of the night.
Take two for the team
and just give up the fight.
Strong words Cindy🙏🙏.
To complain in a sigh that speaks in a whisper
Endorses the struggles where rewards are the better 🙏
Thank you Paula! Oh my! Looking back to that time in my life, yes, I somehow survived and forged ahead with life. And you are right – the rewards have been amazing and I am grateful every day for everything.