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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