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Facing the Truth

Her blinders have been removed 

She has taken her gloves off and removed her coat 

She sits in stillness with peaceful knowing 

Knowing from the soul 

Inspired by the spirit 


The storm came along with no warning 

It whirled and twirled devastation 

Leaving people shocked, hurt, stunned and dismayed 

The creation of fear perpetuated 

Numbness permeated and opened wounds 


Left behind were the remnants of missing pieces 

The young woman and old soul stood strong 

But the powerful force of the storm threw her to unconsciousness 

When she awoke it was apparent to her she was the storm 

Crushed by the aftermath of viewing what she left behind 


Deeply saddened with what she unknowingly had done 

Egoically embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty 

Incapable of seeing what the mirrors were telling her 

Her prayers were answered one day 

She ask to be shown so she could heal 


She prayed for strength and courage 

She prayed for forgiveness of self and others 

She lay helpless crying for hours in her bed

She faced her naked body and viewed her own destruction


Overtaken by grief, hurt, sadness, disappointment

But inspired by unconditional love


She is a person hurt by her past

She is a human being

She is not defined by labels

She is not willing to give up

She is walking her journey one step at a time


Who is she?  Who is this woman with such great strength? 

She is not alone


Read more of Amy's posts here.



Loved the poem! Thank you

Thank you Cindy!

Love the poem and so true for so many. So hard to overcome for many that don't understand. Thank you for sharing.

Amy Well said my friend This is beautiful your strength and courage I've always admired.

Beautiful! Perfect for "spoken word poetry". If you have not already, I encourage you to record a recitation and put it on Youtube. I just got off the phone with my 37-year-old son who has been fighting meth addition for several years. He has come to accept he may have the "family curse" of bipolar disorder and his addiction is self-medication that may kill him. Your poem, I think,will speak to him in ways I can't.

oh god...


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