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#decastich
The winter fairy has again knocked on my door with a lovely gift of today With a little sunshine hue this morning she arrived with tiny friends Still sulking in darkness and in my melancholic silence I got up and tried to peek A little smile then curved my lips happily singing their winter songs on a frail tree branch were birds with tiny feet The gift of laughter that I heard suddenly gave me hope Winter is not only a season of gloom, of tears and of despair Its beauty is also a season for peace,  for thinking and for memories Because of my new feathered friends a reminder so I write today That for any season that we have to feel untroubled or miserable is our choice to make
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 9:01 PM UTC
A Choice To Make
Too wonderful is the spring's day and night Painting the meadows with delight Too green are the grass and leaves Waving happily in tune with the breeze Too sweet is the smell of the blossoms Rejoicing in colorful robes they bloom Someday my dearest love we will Oh believe me, one day in April Spring dance in the sun we will On a sweeter spring, we'll kiss uphill
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 7:11 AM UTC
Someday We Will
My mind has gone to thousands of directions I walked in dark alleys and bumpy streets I dawdled in roads that were rough, treacherous and steep Seeking silence, I turned around distracting thoughts The humps, the bumps, the wrong turns and detours The missteps, the slips and the stumbles My road ahead is neither smooth nor easy But on this beautiful path, I now tread in peace With each tiny step, I feel the gentle breeze With each little step, I see pretty flowers flourish
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Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 11:00 PM UTC
I Chose the High Road
How could I love myself                                                  If I didn’t study the clumsy crevices that lay in my stomach? How could I love myself                                                  If I didn’t nurse the jagged grooves that make up my spine? How could I love myself                                                  If I didn’t unearth the secrets that my pores harvested at night? I am touching parts of myself that I have never touched before.
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Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 2:04 PM UTC
self-love