If there's been a lifetime
Where I've had to fight
For my God given right to be sane,
Then this must be it.
It's a lifetime that contains within it
A constant silver lining.

It's not because I've suffered
That that should hinder me.
The clean-up just takes more time.
More persistence and faith
To wash the dirt off my worn hands.

And as I gaze out of the window
Of the large office building
Which somehow stumbled
On to my winding path,
I see cranes and constructions.
Humanity's lego blocks,
Reflections of our deepest selves.

I smile and come to realise
Somehow, this view
Looks much like myself...
Always building, never giving up
Always on the look out
For better solutions and structures.
It must have been
Humanities gift to me...

The orange winter sun
Caresses this view
And with it
It caresses my broken hands.