There's beauty bursting from within
Treasure inside the old weathered tin
Faith's still growing , though the branch is dried out and withered
And though my scars are covered
Their stories don't die
No they just accumulate
Like balls of snow
Rolling down a hill
Layers of collected scraps
In between the perfection of the Snow White
There's beauty bursting from within
But will it ever be recognized
Seen for what it is?
Uncovered in their nudity and truth
The wounds that remain
Those that form the innermost part of me
Branches unpruned that yet can reopen wounds
Vines covering the beauty within a solitary soul
I'll let it go for you
I'll let it go for a chance to
for a chance to experience the things I've never felt or seen
For wounds to be healed
Pain relieved , anxieties released
Placing my trust in higher things
Only God knows what will be of this story
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