The Beauty of Winter

I sat down and thought, "When did I become me?"

"When did I stop trying so hard?" "When was able to just be?"

Because growing up is hard, that's a lesson I've had to learn, 

It's taught me how to believe, to love, to discern.

But if I had to guess a true turning point in my plan, 

I would say it was the day I learned I couldn't be defined by any man.

A boy taught me that if I have to work for love, it's probably not right

Because real love believes that you're worth it - it shouldn't be a fight.

That made me grow up - that made me, me

It weirdly granted me confidence, and the ability to truly see. 

I saw that situation as winter and I felt trapped by the snow, 

It was winter because of the pain, but that pain made me grow.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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