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Fighting 4 My Soul
Looking in the mirror
I saw an image it was clear.
I told my reflection
you are loved and shed tear
No longer prisoner to shame,
I watched my shoulders slowly rise.
The person that I dared to name
Now gazed back with gentler eyes.
In that moment of pure grace,
The walls I'd built began to fall.
Years of doubt left without trace,
As self-compassion filled the hall.
The mirror held more truth than glass,
A portal to my wounded core.
The strength I needed came at last,
From words I should have said before.
The bravest act of love of all healing
starts so small, A whisper when
the world grows still.
Copyright ©
Christen Foster
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