Oft we wonder if the strength they ascribe
Is true regard or another backhanded platitude.
The strength they see comes from being shattered
By blows of hand and wind
And glued together by promises
Until our skin sings with a cacophony of lines,
Lines hand painted in gold because
The world says resilience is beauty unfettered
Yet, we walk on shells prepared for the
Inevitable chip in our veneer.
The poise of dreams unawakened
Until the moment we find ourselves
Not in this strength built from unaccountable tolls
But in the grace with which we embrace ourselves.
Beautifully written and I love seeing the celebration and appreciation so well expressed without using the words “ Ladies , Girls or Women “ .
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