It was the sticks of hope that healed a broken heart
faith blessed the man who lost the race with a fresh start
the little bird hopped until she healed her broken wings
despair pushed caterpillars into cocoons and turned them into beautiful things
the tunnel was long and dark, but there was no light so it wasn't the end
for the lemon of reality was lemonade waiting to blend...
there was an incomparable calm after, all that ached was waiting out the storm
it was an enchanting smile at the end of the grotesque melancholic cry
an inspirational story on the next page, a hello in the heart of goodbye...
for the ceaseless wander found the nomad a home...