She sings about the struggle.

It surrounds her like the color purple.

She’s tired of thinking; she’s tired of speaking,

So she sings about the struggle.

She sings about her fears,

Closes her eyes- inhales-

Because to her it’s real-

She used to say,

She would sing about the struggle.

 

 

He’d touch her cheek in his mind.

For short moments in time

He’d caress her arm, her shoulder

Then give to her another color.

Watching and wanting from afar,

He did nothing for the struggle,

So he held and he kissed her

For short moments in time-

Only touching her in his mind.

 

 

She was tired of waiting, of slowly dying,

So she wrote her own story- the hero to her victories.

Her spirit became her, mighty as the ocean

She’s was elated – floating.

Now she sings about the conquering

She sings about the score.