Like every drop of rain,
Disturbs the surface of water.
My actions make me gain,
Qualities we want for daughters.

Improvements we hope,
Because we want not to fall,
Backwards to the end of the rope.
Then those we know laugh with gall.

When we misstep in tiptoe,
Around the mistakes we make.
Not knowing the seeds we sow.
All the wrongs we forsake,

Holds us further apart,
With no comfort in the surroundings.
The cause for change at the start.
Despite denying their foundings.

So I be the light, the change,
So many need.
Hope in being in range,
And the message they heed.

As I am not,
At my core,
Part of this group.

I am the outsider, and reason,
For which it was formed.
I know I will miss,

Small parts and messages.
I can not fully understand.
However, I do.

More than you might think.
What comes with the words,
"I will die for you."

Still you are unbelieving,
Of the fact I would.
So, with this knife must I prove?

Or give it?
For someone else to carry the dead
The ending is the same.

We ponder this question.
Collectively we envision perfection.
Something more than what,
We are, or could be.

We say their marks are left,
By kisses we call freckles.
Seeing them with white light,
And wings, always carrying that message.

It always is of hope.
The dawn is near.
An intervention to prove,
It is the good way.

The right way.
They know the road has been,
And will be,
Long, heartfelt, and troubling.

So they make it melt,
All away. To be seen,
Maybe later. However,
That moment you will,

Feel it and be embraced,
By light, the love,
And all who are,
Above.

I gave you a word.
What did you expect from it?
I expected myself to live up to it.
Now I know I'm not.
Is the word meaningless?
Or am I.

Why am I to be saved?
The nothingness I produce,
Could never measure to,
The love I have received.
Knowing all choices made.
The worth always questioned.
Middle ground ending in no man's land?
What's infront of me but a void of,
Decisions.

Adults get an excuse from their childhood.
Children are not excused from "their" adulthood.

So nice to have met you...
Here you see only this,
In the void darkness creates.
Wishing to be warm,
This moves around.
Can you feel warmth around you?
Or is it a cone of perspective, drawing.
Knowing the ever changing nature,
I fear the touch.
Letting it linger above me,
I waste to dust below.