I have tread lightly, I have spoken softly
I will not lay down and die
I have faced the fire, crossed your line
None can conquer I
Some might say it strengthens the spirit
Taking the road less traveled by
I can say without hesitation
This is not a lie
Strength is such a tricky thing
Seems that it is a curse
Being the one that never falters
Has made me the one that cries first
A plea, perhaps, is what I need
Some aide in my endeavor
For what is it to bleed
While I stitch the wound together
A scab is what has formed now
Around the sutures of the hole
Then in place of the skin
A scar will soon unfold
Nothing more than a reminder
Nothing less than the strength
Than it takes to keep from picking
At it’s never ending length
Larissa Gabrielle Boyd
October 1, 2003