What we do when things have died
Gone or broken caught in lies.
Refuse the pain is one we try.
More often all we do is cry,
Or yet again we may deny.
Then in anger ask why?
Hurt out loud, or shy
Away,hide the sigh
So softly no eye
Can see inside
It's only I
Alone I.
Until
With the will
Power we still
Have, we march up hill
Back from the depths until
Once more we are able to fill
Our sorry lives and feel the thrill
In the embrace of persons; take the quill
And write new chapters, sing new songs or trill
Upon the melodies of life once more, shout shrill
Halleluiah! We did not die, nor were we ground upon the mill
Of sadness. Broken, not defeated, moving forward though hurting still.