Quinceanera

June 24, 2010
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She stood before the alter,
Kneeling on the steps.
She could feel the bruises
Of her past on her soul.
The presence of nightmares benieth her skin.
Disappointment and pain smother hopes, her spirit, and her dreams.
The priest begins to anoint her.
In her mind she looks upon her enemies.
"When you look upon me
You shall no longer see a child but a worrior.
You will no longer frighten me,
For I am brave.
You will no longer harm me,
For I am strong.
And you willno longer bring me down,
For I shall stand tall.
The priest places the crown atop her head.
With her heart she turned to her allies.
Her friends, her family, and her own spirit.
"It is your love that gives me strength,
Your hope that gives me faith,
And your sight that gives me future.
You have made me a queen.
An illistration for others to admire.
My thanks flow as rivers do to,
To each and everyone of you."
She opens her eyes and stands.
She views the door from which she came.
She is leaving her sorrows in this place
And readies herself for what has yet to come.
Like the mustang that is in her heart,
She is blind as to where this path will lead her,
But now she is willing to make the journey.





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