My sadness is my own it’s plain to see;
There are fragments of my soul that live sadly
There are moments of each day that I may go to that place.
And I can sit with my sadness; it has its own face.
I don’t deny the beauty in feeling what is really there
This sadness is real; it shows a humanity and care.
Alive in all of us; these colours you see.
The beauty of accepting
~The melancholy