For every tree unborn
For every stone unturned
For every page in every book
In every bindery which will burn
Quietly in the fires of industry  

There is death
And there is time
There is life
And there is change

And there's also the light between the leaves which fades
Until it is out of sight
And consumed by this
The lack of brightness within night

For just as acorn stems to tree
So also you will see your growth
As tall as ever it was meant to be

So you need not worry about such things
Because the ink is dry
The life is lived
And the only constancy is change

She's too passionate
and oversensitive
for this messy world -
She doesn't fit-in,
so she tries to stay out.

It's a constant
tug-of-war battle
between her fragile heart
and her delicate mind.
She can't help but feel too much -
peace of mind
is all that she ponders about.

She is gentle,
empathetic and intelligent,
but vulnerable -
she was born this way,

She has relived
this same hopeless feeling
every single blessed day.

She is an overthinker -
always reflecting,
always pensive...

Full of genuine love,
whilst drained by such pain;
she is beautifully oversensitive.

She's always lonely
amongst a crowd,

whilst completely lost
deep inside the belly
of the same-old dark cloud.

She's a beautiful, beautiful mess...

She gives her entirety--nothing less!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017