Who Is She?

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Spine is like steel: very strong and can’t be bent, but weak in the knees, needing to repent. Walking up high but holds my head down low, ashamed of who I am as I have nothing in life show. Why can’t I see even with the four eyes that lead? I am hurt but can’t find the wounds to reflect the pain.

Eger to learn but can’t find the teacher, “She never left.” As she stands and watches me, I reach for her hand but never take it. I know I walk with confidence and boldness in my soul but can’t focus on the appearance because of the tears in my eyes.

Now I’m yelling, “I’m lost, don’t know where to go, or who I’m looking for.” Why am I alone? I contradict myself every time by strutting around as though no fear is able to arise. I want people to see I’m secure with mine. Then I hear a voice … It’s time to let go, I raised my hands, I look up and feel my face burn with tears of joy; I am all you need. I open my eyes to see her face but all I could see is a mirror holding my own reflection, smiling, saying you are never alone.

Who is she … she is me.


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