Bears of Storms Invade Our Lives
Many bears consume our lives
They thrash our feelings around like feathers
Throwing them up to be disorganized trash
But wait?
One should not categorize feelings as trash?
But what one holds dear could gash us in the end
Lives of happy manners shallow but pure
Take a fist full of stones tied together
Our feelings bundled real tight
Not to fall out of our hand or dissipate
But to form strenthily on thy hand
Lets be a character of fortitude
Molding new paths of friends and roots
Not letting any of the stones fall from thine hand
All through life, storms, and nasty weather
We hold every little stone
Now who is the strong one?
That person which lets his stones/feelings drop one by one
on those unsuspecting
But that person who held fast
No matter what happened.
Who is the strong one here?
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