What prison is this now I find myself
Most gladly living in for months and years?
Why did it take so long to find these bars
Of love that burn so hot they destroy fears?
I learned too well in years past how the heart
Can break from too much hope and little joy,
How living can feel more like death than life,
And even love can be horror’s envoy.
But now I understand how broken dreams
And hearts as well can root afresh and grow
Into more beautiful and vivid flowers
Than any the heart otherwise might know.
A static life may breathe but be root bound;
Some pain can show us where joy’s to be found.
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