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Her inner strength spread forth,
Winged with affection,
She taught others of its importance,
It wasn’t that she was made of stone,
God, no!
She was flesh and blood.

Fragility echoed in the walls of her heart,
Her never wavering eyes,
Hid the ingress to her troubled soul,
A guiding light she was,
Great a thinker she was taken to be,
Yet only one with minuscule eyes,
Could one see the gravity of her pain.

Nothing seemed to be in her favor,
Always contemplating on how to make it,
Fear gripped every bone in her,
Disappointment had been her colleague,
Nursing her into betrayals and discomfort,
The waterfalls of her tears had wet her bed,
In the secrecy of her capsule

Yet, her standing remained an inspiration,
Her pain was the light of others,
She knew all too well,
Her fragility had no place,
And hoped,
That the strength seen by others,
Would one day make its way,
Into her weakened heart.
Who we are to the rest of the world is different from what we are inside our hearts. This poem is a dedication to all strong people, men and women although specifically to those strong ladies who know how to hold on even when everything around is falling, mothers who remain pillars for their children even when they cry everyday in their beds, wives who remain the backbone of their husbands when all they want is to be shielded from the pain they have.

— The End —