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?