Decorative stonework windows

of blackness and grime

echo hatred versus love.

Yet the sidewalks follow

one red umbrella home

far from the dark clouds

and the pitter-patter of raindrops.



I want more than anything to escape

but these chains of grief

keep me captive and weak.

I have always been meek but strong,

but now I am living in a maze

and can't seem to find a clear path.

Every path is crooked and winding.



Yet the red umbrella is drying out;

so maybe the rain will move to someone else.

And maybe I will just put on a tomato red dress

to break the chains of grief for just one day.

Then I will twirl and twirl to a sixties song

and dance around my house

leaving a link at a time in each room.



Maybe the blackness and grime of tomorrow

will start to bleed into colors of yellow and pink.

And maybe I will become a new spring blossom

with a new beauty emerging out of the ***** ground.

Then I will attract the butterflies and the bees

to become the best version of who I was meant to be

and leave the blackness and grime far behind.