There is a point at which a thing
has not yet seen the world
It is unharmed
and knows not what struggles await

There is a point at which a thing
has seen the world
And has suffered
but is not broken

There is a point a which a thing is broken
for it has seen the world
and suffered too greatly

And we are many parts
parts sometimes broken
and sometimes healed ready to risk being broken again
And this circle turns and turns again

There are points I dream of
and points I am terrified will return
There are points I aim for
there are the points that are simply now

There is a point at which though broken
I can step back out and risk the circle again
There is a point at which while broken
I fall and can only imagine

There are points I dream of
and points I am terrified will return
There are points I aim for
there are the points that are simply now