
She trudged along the gravelled path,
Far from home, lost in the rush of the world,
Her boots worn, her back stooped,
The winds, cold and brazen, cut across,
The skin on her face drooped.
Her eyes stung with tears,
That refused to fall out,
She shut them close,
Wanting to push the world out.
Alone and desolate, she bawled,
Her cries ringing, echoing in her own ears,
Her thoughts drowning out what little sound was left,
Over clicking boots and howling winds,
She didn’t hear the answers to her calls of help!
Help may not always come in the shape you desired but it will be there, in the most unexpected circumstances, from the most unexpected people. Never cease to believe that you’re cared for, loved by and the pride of someone among the 7 billion of us and counting!
Let those boots take you to places but never forget what coming back home is like. Home, after all, is where the heart is. ❤
Graciously Yours!

Such a warm message ❤ and a beautiful poem 🙂
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Thank you so much NJ! I hope it helps people, just as writing this out helped me. ❤
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It will for sure 🙂
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