The empty circle spins around, In its quiet, I am found. 🌙 In and out, it pulls and flows, A rebirth from the pain it shows. 🌿 The day after my birth, I mourn, For that was the day my heart was torn. 💔 Losing my mother, I was left unwhole, Grief, the thief, who stole my soul. 😔 It stole my art, my heart, my tart, Left a bitter taste and torn apart. 🍰 But circles turn, they never end, Each thread I weave begins to mend. 🧵 Though my heart still bears the ache, I fill the holes with love I make. 💖 From pain, rebirth—a soul reclaims, The stolen pieces and my name. 🌸 ©️Angela Maull HC AADP, EC