Roses and Thorns

Holding on to life by a tiny string She grabs despite the tiny lines Formed deep in her flesh. A dark red dripped slowly. Forming a bond to a future One promising despite her presence. Her shaky legs that life cuts deep into Stands firm and tall All healed up in the future I see The thin line of life made way for a broader ground one relaxing and comfortable Luck was not involved in her journey Her perseverance got her through The hurt, the stabbing pain The air that made her gashing wounds sting. All were involved, in her future comfort Life was not her bed of roses But it clearly was not full of thorns. © Keenah