January 11th, 2017 Creativity
What inspired Irena to write this poem was the beauty and courage of her girlfriends in their fight against cancer.
To you, my dear,
who doesn't have anything to comb in the morning.
To you, my beautiful,
who goes to the tenth chemo and every bone hurts,
but still you get up.
To you, my brave one,
who looks at her own scars like trophies earned in victory.
To you, my joy,
who doesn't have anything to comb in the morning.
To you, my beautiful,
who goes to the tenth chemo and every bone hurts,
but still you get up.
To you, my brave one,
who looks at her own scars like trophies earned in victory.
To you, my joy,
- who sings happily from the inside of your own heart
even though fear torments you.
To you, my gentlest,
who hugs her child with hands numbed by Taxol
but still conveys a mother's touch.
To you, my lovely,
who raises a smile because you just don't want to cry.
To you, my gorgeous,
who draws her own eyebrows, ties a kerchief around her head
and goes out to breathe her lungs full with air.
To you, my beautiful,
who hugs her child with hands numbed by Taxol
but still conveys a mother's touch.
To you, my lovely,
who raises a smile because you just don't want to cry.
To you, my gorgeous,
who draws her own eyebrows, ties a kerchief around her head
and goes out to breathe her lungs full with air.
To you, my beautiful,
- who hides her cracked veins from the eyes of her own children.
To you, my gentlest,
who is changed forever, whose world is colored with new colors.
To you my sister, brother, neighbor, stranger:
Nothing is impossible.
who is changed forever, whose world is colored with new colors.
To you my sister, brother, neighbor, stranger:
Nothing is impossible.
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