When it’s hardest for them to cope!
When they want to disappear!
Why do they bleed slowly?
And sink away into a thought of a bleak tomorrow?
So that they grow!
And the scar tissue hardens
Stronger than bones
That even sticks and stones
Are comparably soft
And brittle to touch
Why then do they cry?
For they do not see yet, their tomorrow
And do not see their wings!
Or hear the birds sing!
“The moon is gone
The sun is rising
It’s golden hour”
She deserves to smile
For what was, is gone
And she shall create what will be.
Not with a whimper
But with a bang
She will fly high again
With a smile
Wipe tears
Forget fears
Sip warm liquor
And contemplate on your rigors
None of it will be in vain
I’m falling asleep now (writing) on this night train
But promise me this.
That you dream happy thoughts
And in morrow time when I ask what happened
And why you had seemed so somber…
You cheer gleefully
And say
you forgot.
I hope it gets better swiftly .
Sincerely Yours,
A messenger of good tidings.
Little Borrowers 