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