Expiration Date
Her thoughts bled from her fingertips
In the form of ink, they created art
She churned her words in sync to the beat
Taking music from the pain in her heart
Woven words roll down her face
Saturating the canvas beneath
Adorning her sorrows with delicate lace
Lovely strokes from a brush of grief
She was filling the shoes of her destiny
By opening her heart and letting loose the parts
For all the world to see
She knew not why her eyes did cry
She couldn't define her purpose
But she didn't want her tears to dry
It would defeat their very service
So all of her fears and all of her tears
Filled the cracks that turned to streams
Ending the drought for her many peers
Giving peace and reason to dream
Then one day she realized
That she, too, had life inside
She had not been forgotten
Or left behind
She was very much alive
It wasn't too late to start today
Every journey, at some point, began
She didn't sport an expiration date
Branded upon her hand
Just like that, at the drop of a hat
Her pity party quickly ceased
Ditching the bench, she went to batt
Her self worth, soon increased
Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2017
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