Maybe that's a good thing?
Maybe t'was a part of me I don't need anymore
Which I kept adhering to for some stupid reason
Such as pride, fear, or plain habit?
But still, whenever something precious dies,
And all parts of mine are - to me - precious,
There must be time for grief
There must be time for sadness
One must make allowances ...
There will be a time when - oh when ...
The pain will have lessened and
I can collect myself and
plant new, happy seeds onto
the perturbed, turmoiled soil.
