I held my chin up too high again.
I should have learned from my grandmother;
She never did learn.
I was born needing to live
While everyone around me was dying.
Through every struggle, I tried rebirth -
Over and over and over, trying.
But I would never have been born once
If it weren't for my mother's stubbornness.
I should have learned when she fought death,
I should have learned from her endurance.
I was hiding, crying, trying to forget the occurrence.
How can the chill of a stranger's eyes break me like weak glass
While my mother smiled through cancer?

I was never a very good dancer.