Three

I touch the ground and hold on to three things

I count three steps back and breathe in

Waking up is getting hard, but I’ll be fine

By and by, I’ll learn to smile

 

I hold three things so dear to me

Hoping they won’t go or give up on me

I count three things, so near to reach

And somehow I feel a little happy

 

I count the days I have survived

That I wake up and find three things I like

Three months has passed—things are getting fine

By and by, days will be bright.

 

I hold three things from the past

Deep in me, I cannot cast

It may stay with me until the last

In this heart made of glass

 

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