Will there be a  happy ending?

I always thought there would,

but now I’m not so sure.

 

I felt invincible for so many years,

scoffed at naysayers and critics,

convinced that nobody was needed.

 

Then one day my past caught me,

the masks could no longer shield me,

and sadness became my companion.

 

I thought often of dying, not worthy,

and how it would end for me,

aging I felt left behind.

 

Numbed, the troops march on,

blues, and gentle rain rinses hope,

clear, fresh air, breathe in.

 

I tell the story of who I am,

imperfect, with my whole heart,

I am enough and this is me.

 

Birthplace of innovation, creativity. and change,

curing the swampland of the soul,

this vulnerability just might work.

 

Hope so!