Second Wind

To die a bit each passing day,
as ashes drift then fade away.
Colorful hues become pale gray,
a haunting path leads hopes astray.

Choke from the words that scream inside,
suffocates every ounce of pride.
Exposes all her true self hides,
allowing misery to guide.

Gain smiles from all by being fake,
a heart of steel could never break,
yet everyday emotions ache,
knowing her life is a mistake.

Walks to the edge, meets a light flash,
sways side to side as feelings crash,
takes two steps back, old hopes rehash,
sadness and fears thrown in the trash.

Moved far from that hollow old shell,
free from what felt like a cursed spell.
A beaming laugh she carries well,
her sincere stories she now tells.

Grateful to live in her own skin,
each moment helps a mark begin.
Amazed at how perspectives spin,
showing how faith can always win.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Sounds of Hope

Shh Shh Shh, do not worry,
your thoughts form future stories.
Dust away all foul quarries,
every fall carries glories.

Hush Hush Hush, wipe away tears,
do not let doubts create fears.
Allow hardships to shift gears,
letting gold sun rays appear.

Drip Drip Drip, wash off regrets,
lingered guilts do not pay debts.
Let it go, never forget,
slowly learn how to reset.

Tweet Tweet Tweet, life becomes sweet,
lessons learned will not repeat.
Real world and dreams at last meet,
mend all rips until complete.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Hues of Hope

He wakes up exhausted,
feels the same while in bed.
His world is distorted,
numbness transforms to dread.

His moves are all stagnant
within his encaged thoughts,
dull memory fragments
haunt false tales he once bought.

Disguising his sad tears,
wearing a broken smile,
his attempts carry fears
often seen as hostile.

Raindrops produce music
that cascade on his head,
bringing hopes that may stick
and eventually spread.

Staring up at the sky
till a rainbow appears.
Aspirations run high
as his dusty mind clears.

An empowering choice
help him gain some control.
Finding ways to rejoice
swiftly brightens his soul.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

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