you say life
has beaten and stung you.
you say it’s left you
without a breath.
you say the rain
keeps falling
that sunlight never comes.
you cry yourself to sleep
every night in bed.
you whine when things
start getting rough
because you really
just don’t understand
that pain is sent
to shape you.
to help you grow,
and blossom and bloom.
for those beautiful flowers
that you see drenched in sun
were once pruned too.