Patient March Diva

I struggle to define myself
To define my priorities and my goals
To occupy my heart and mind with silver and gold
But sometimes reality tarnishes the shine away
I keep polishing but the stains... array into worries and doubt
The suspicion rusts my spring flowers into a decayed torment of time
Is it happening? Could it be? Am I crazy to even think about thinking this?

I struggle to stay beautiful amidst the storm that darkens my make up shades
The wind blows my hair into directions of fury
And the sun dries my tears that reflect porous ambitions

I stuggle to look like spring
Bright and anxious to fulfill flowering moments
To brighten my future

I struggle to become the Diva that I intend to be
Strong meaningful and honest with myself
Polished and carved by my own Ideas, Love and Thoughts
Standing up for what I believe and want to be
And how I desire people to think of me - A Beautiful and Kind woman
And most of all - Keeping the Promises I make to myself
I struggle to be - The Patient March Diva

Not A victim of fears

Not a patient of tears

Only patient to ask God for Forgiveness

Always

Please God take my forgiveness and somehow treasure it

If you take only the outer rim of my canvas of praying

I will be grateful to you