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Abstract

igure>She wraps herself inside her flannel tomb to ward off chills that rival winter’s breath. She wonders how she’ll dare to grant herself a chance to move outside her inner shell, and pull herself from self-inflicted death.She cannot tell them why she should deserve the privilege to search for confidence. There’s always someone better, so she thinks. Her tears well up and stab like swallowed knives. She wipes h

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er eyes to slowly face the day.Yet, still, behind a failed distorted glass, beneath the muck that’s wrapped around her heart, there grows a soft and subtle seed of hope, that only wants to see the light of day.Tomorrow, she will find a string of pride, and braid together strands to grant her strength. And bit by bit, she’ll bring on Doubt’s demise, forgetting all the days she almost quit.</article></body>

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blank verse (iambic pentameter, no rhyme scheme)

She wraps herself inside her flannel tomb to ward off chills that rival winter’s breath. She wonders how she’ll dare to grant herself a chance to move outside her inner shell, and pull herself from self-inflicted death.

She cannot tell them why she should deserve the privilege to search for confidence. There’s always someone better, so she thinks. Her tears well up and stab like swallowed knives. She wipes her eyes to slowly face the day.

Yet, still, behind a failed distorted glass, beneath the muck that’s wrapped around her heart, there grows a soft and subtle seed of hope, that only wants to see the light of day.

Tomorrow, she will find a string of pride, and braid together strands to grant her strength. And bit by bit, she’ll bring on Doubt’s demise, forgetting all the days she almost quit.