There he sat with his head in his hands,
Thirsty for power yet riddled with pain.
One small soldier speaking for many
About lives lost daily, one by one.
The wind can leave a dent in your armor
And heroes come and go as they please
But what delights me, day by day
Is resilience. We won’t be erased.
The stairway calls us, binds us to growth
To pull ourselves out of battle
For the weeds are growing and the time has come
To love the weeds, one by one.
Even a warrior has gardening to do
And there’s not enough Kleenex in the world
To sop up all the tears held back from years
Of me blaming me. I didn’t get it wrong and neither did