I dug myself a hole, seven feet under,
then I buried myself deep, torn asunder.

I buried it all; the rain and thunder,
And from my tears and sorrow, grew a red aster*

*(Red asters was my frustration and anger,
Made fresh with pain and sorrow, tears and horror.)

I clung to the light, lest I lose and err, in blunder,
And regrew my limbs, my heart, emotions tender.

I understood, I accepted, I left it as is,
I refreshed my pace and gait; it left me to wonder:

“ When would another ‘yesterday’ emerge and render
Another cycle in which I dearly, dearly disfavor

The life I live, and which I scorn and horror. ”

I let myself grasp an empty hope; a rope, a ladder,
And grew myself a sky blue lavender,

I let it embrace me, and I embraced its odor,
And let my reason rest in blissful solace,

For who knew what came tomorrow, (may it please be merrier)
Peace, and tranquility, while it lasted was mild and mellow.

Was it not better to live by the lavender,
Then despair and hang on the the aster?