She Was Blessed.

We covered her in a garb of honor,
but honor ‘failed’ her.
So she picked the adornment of shame,
and dwell in the garden of ‘fame’.
What pleasure she found in the rain,
dwindled when the drought came.

We elevated her to a high place,
above the earth and humanly gaze,
but she said upon grass she must graze,
and so she fell upon her face.

We served her meal upon a golden tray,
she looked awhile with nothing to say.
No words, no thanks!
The grace was taken away.

I pray that you may,
live beyond the standard that you came,
rise above the earth,
before you breathe your last.

Slitz…

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