And Yet I Rise

 And yet I rise, though weary and worn.

My dress all tattered, stained and torn.

Though worry breaks my back each day.

In my heart, my love will stay.

And yet I rise, though sick with dread.

As tears fall down and I am left for dead.

No helping hand.

For me to hold.

To give me heat.

When I am cold.

And yet I rise, though trials come.

Each and every single day.

And as the sun sets each new day.

My strength grows with me.

Along the way.