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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2164536-Weathered
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Biographical · #2164536
My struggle with chronic illness.

I found my self at midlife.
Broken, hurting, and lonely.
My mind dark and body in strife.

I had found myself an addict many years ago,
searching for something my heart cried for.
At twenty, I thought I found my ultimate low.

Burning bridges for ten years,
relationships fell to the side.
I cried so many tears.

Tough love my parents did excersice,
I was homeless, addicted, and pregnant.
My tear stained eyes.

I was in trouble with the law,
my family was nowhere to be found.
That was when the police came to call.

Prison is where I stayed,
waiting and watching the days go by.
On a metal bunk incarcerated is where I laid.

Upon my release, I found recovery and God.
I started a new life,
as a mother and a wife.

I passed my days helping others.
I told my story, counseled those in need,
and thought life had found me not to follow but to lead.

In the mornings the sun does shine,
my family and childred are by my side.
Mornings the Lord and I do dine.

Upon my face the cracks you will see,
a hard life I have lived it seems forever,
I may have imperfections but I am just weathered.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2164536-Weathered