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Poetry

Not How Often You Fall

Like shards of a crystal, I once broke,
Is the peril that haunts me.
Oh, how the blood oozed across my skin;
‘Red’ was all I did see.

Suffocated by the sound of voices
That keep speaking from my mind,
I’m afraid I’d forget to breathe
Before any solace that I find.

“It won’t end like this!” I say
And subject me do penance.
“It won’t be long; I must!” I say,
Hoping to end all the nuisance.

Days pass by,
Each moment felt like a lifetime tenure
Like bitter medicine,
Necessary, but the only cure.

At last, I felt it;
My time was done.
The clouds had cleared
And I saw the sun.

Each breath, so forth
Drew me closer and closer
To all, I was made for.
I triumphed in all I did, over and over.

Then I said to all,
“It is not how often you fall,
But how often you push the earth
To make the world know your worth.”