I am proud,
Little one,
For your heart has sung.
Made your own little rhythm
To your own little drum.
You have grown with wolves
But still ,
You're a cub.
Your gentle manner
Has taught you to love.
To rise above
Your lowest points.
To trudge the mountains
And reach great heights.
And now little one,
You are ready to fly.
To sadness and regret
You now wave goodbye.

At the edge,
I sink to my knees.
Nothing to feel,
Nothing to see.

The touch of grass,
Tickling my feet.
Yet no laugh I bear
In my defeat.

But a beautiful creature
Passes by.
I catch a glimpse
With my teary eyes.
She's burnt with orange
And the darkest of blacks.
So small in size
With wings on her back.

She lands so softly
On my button-red nose.
Fluttering so gently,
Unbothered by the cold.

I hold her gaze
Until she's ready to go.
And flutter away,
She goes back home.

I should follow her footsteps,
It's getting quite late.
For her presence,
Though small,
Has encouraged me to stay.

I am warm in his arms,
Though no heart he bares.
Full of light and love
From soft little hairs.
No words he can speak
Yet so caring and sweet.
His forever smile
Brings purpose to me.

When times may arise
With doubt and fear,

One moment I carry is the cuddle of a bear.

To touch the dirt,
The soil,
The sand.
To feel it run gently
Through my hand.
To hear soft creaks
In the dead of night.
To hear birds sing
As they plan a flight.

Our simple surroundings,
Give solitude of mind.
For peace is rare
In this strange little life.

I feel strange.
I was once a glory
Put directly on stage.
I showed my ability
Yet you weren't amazed.

Instead, you scold me,
But wasn't I great?

'No', you told me,
'You need to change'.

A weight
Crashes on my chest.
Your tears
Burn through my skin.

No escape,
No rest.
As you slumber
Soundly in my bed.

A feeling of emptiness
Swarms my mind.
Your thoughts
Knock heavily into mine.

They sit and wait
Until I break the line.
And fix the knot
That just won't tie.

How can a thought
Become a threat?
Created strictly
Inside our head.
Tears and sweat
From ponders of fret.
False scenarios
We beg to forget.

That is us.
Tormented by upset.