The Strength in weakness

Vivienne Christofides

Danielle Yu

I am pale with bags under my eyes, Like how joy is swept away in the sky. I am strongly weak. My weakness is my strength, But it’s also my foe.

It’s a deficiency, they say, That makes a hole in my system. However it hasn’t yet stolen my brain, nor my soul. The illusion lied to me, I thought I needed fixing, But I did not.

I lonely wept to myself, As only myself I could console. I spent my time imagining my fate, Deep in the dungeon I had built. The thoughts closed me in, Imprisoned me. They imagined I was a fool. But I was not.

There was still power within me, I could take control. I had hope for my future, What I could do, who I could be. I began looking for hope, Utilising my lessons learnt. The treasures laid locked beneath, And only I could free them.

Strength spoke up. Fear dissipated. I saw my own truth, Hiding like an imposter. What others thought didn’t matter, I needed to look for this old friend.

The one that brought tears to my eyes, The one that fixed my wounds. I found it, held on to it. It was there to say, I do not need someone, To find my own true roots.