She was weary and wilting and starting
To droop
All the chicken soup
In the world
Could not breathe Into meÂ
New life
I try to act like my petals aren’t torn and
Weathered
I’m listening to things that make me laugh
Because it’s better
to have tears of ecstasy then tears of sorrowÂ
I find no matter how I wilt
I always bloom again tomorrow.