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Oct 2019
Still here,
beating.

I stand over the girl from my past.

My shadow is a mass, but I am Liberty,
in her stance,
in her strength,
in the sunlight.

Twice struck,
second one has stuck
in deep,
enough to blur the world around me-
around him.

Never mind the darker hours
 (they aren’t important);
what is crucial, is the breath in my lungs.
The fourth poem in my annual series of poems I write for my birthday.
Annie
Written by
Annie  23/F/New Zealand
(23/F/New Zealand)   
547
   H-B
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