The Woman that she is

With a broken heart and a broken soul,

Burns down to ashes, and emerges as whole.

Sparkles in the sun, gets washed in the rain,

She cries like a river, but isn’t defeated by the pain.

She might be called stubborn, selfish, a whore

She laughs it off, and it’s all washed ashore.

She swims with the tides and against it too

She is strong like a rock, delicate like the dew.

She falls down, but stands up every damn time

She knows very well, failure is not a crime.

She limps, she walks, and here she started to run.

She might lose the race, but the game she won.