The pain of emerging

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The pain of emerging

I see you standing there, with your head down, eyes turned away from his grace.
I see you crying there, on the ground, no sun now shines on your face.
I see you shaking there, so scared, wondering if it'll all turn around.
I see you...stop hiding from me, I see you... you have been found.

I hear you crying now, in your head, wondering if someday you will see.
I hear you dying now, but your not dead, your just changing into who you should be.
I hear you singing now, a sad song, but it's music that's freeing your heart.
I hear you, I hear you.... It's such a sad song, but at least it's a start.

I feel your aching heart, it's beating, but each beat just digs deep in your pain
I feel your shaking hands, your unstable feet, I feel each steps' undeniable strain.
I feel your cold cheeks, smiling now, warmed by the tears that you free.
I feel you.. I feel you... I feel you because you are me.

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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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