Cycles of life fill the world
and they amaze me
time and time again,
yet I cannot escape my own,
trapped as I am in a
continuously changing body.

My mind struggles with
the acceptance of my pain,
the necessity of the frustration,
knowing it will all return
until the final cycle wanes,
and till then I'll suffer.

I wish mine could be
as beautiful as the seasons,
but it is just an ugly mess.