To Dry a River
Grief is like a river
That flows through your soul.
To dam it up would be deadly.
To let it all go would be
Insanity.
 
We must hide our banks of sadness
Behind lush trees of joy,
Allowing the fertile soil of depression
To strengthen our roots of
Determination.
 
Yes, grief is like a river
That flows hidden from the world.
Should anyone break through our foliage,
All feelings shall be lost except
Compassion.

 

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