I am a survivor.


I have yet to survive poverty

Nor hunger, abuse, or a bed-less home

I call myself a survivor

Because I escaped

Almost on my own


I have yet to survive a hurricane

Through tornados plenty

Swirling through my brain

They drowned me in sorrows

But who would’ve known

That the things I told myself

Were worse than a torn-down home


I have yet to survive a burial

Six feet under is a long way to go

But climbing back up

That’s not one to be known

Anxiety is the grave

Pulling me in limb by limb

Oh, how I almost let him win


I have yet to survive treatment

That takes the hair off your head

Though sitting in therapy,

Trying not to wish to be dead

Hard work, the painful talks

Never a tear shed


Though I relearned how to walk with God

And all He had to say

He told me that I could make it a few more days


I have yet to witness a miracle

Though I’d say living is one to tell

The thoughts didn’t win

They took a bus to hell

Along with my negativity, internal bruises, and years of pain

I’d say to wish them well, yet they left a stain


I have yet to witness a survivor

Without a story to tell

Whether it be cancer, abuse, or poverty

I hope we stand to yell

Yell at the world

Yell out our strength


“I am a survivor”

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