She treads softly, cautiously. So quiet you can't even tell she's there. She must keep herself hidden. For she knows that others are dangerous. She has a beauty that is so unique. Everyone wants to capture it, control it, suppress it. They want it all to themselves. To own it, possess it. They fail to see that her beauty is pure and cannot be contained. They can cage her, mold her, and even destroy her; but her spirit can never be consumed. Her spirit will always be free.
*I wrote this a few years ago. I read it often, from different perspectives, depending on the level of my depression. But mostly it offers me hope and strength. I hope that it gives those of you who read it hope and strength too.*
Poetry, short stories, paintings, photography, songs – art of all genres.
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