To Thine Self Be True

Once there was romanticism within each line pleading to read between in these passionate hues of rosey red The woe of my despair, the need of acceptance of sorts driven by my abuser, who could truly care for me?! I found rejection so brutal, as if I could truly show love And with each harsh word I held privately though the sun set so spectacular this evening So very melancholy as the life of the tree so now becomes dormant Life is sucked away from its branches as it dies what bountiful hues fill the horizon where I sit People pass by and marvel the beauty and isn't it somehow strange we find such beauty in the dying? Before long barrenness will fill these lands And I think of how it relates somewhat of my own life This dormant time where I could not show the beauty of my love as I covered it with emotions left in their wake and oh, how I await for Spring to blossom on the hillside, and this side, where my gentleness and sincerity a day shall then bloom ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To Thine Self Be True