Dirt. My grandmother once said That every flower has to go through dirt, And that in times of suffering to never give up Because eventually I would become A strong and beautiful flower, Standing on my own. -I've started to think That these struggles might never turn me into a beautiful flower. All my life I've only seen good things happen, To other people. Maybe I'm not supposed to be a flower, Maybe I'm not even a seed. Maybe I'm just, Dirt. -Josephin August
i am so sorry that everytime i open my mouth it is not roses that come pouring out but blood; and you think i would learn to keep my lips shut to avoid the embarrassment, but the only thing i have realized is that no one will love you when you have bloodstains on your clothes l.s.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead, And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand, And ran and snatched it, and with battle shout Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down, And saved a great cause that heroic day. — Edward Rowland Sill