Born To Survive
Stabbed a million times to death,
Desperately catching up my breath.
Been hurt too much, I can’t get up.
This throbbing pain in my heart, I can’t stop.
One night when no one was around,
I found myself standing on holy ground.
Now that things fall, I knelt down.
Saying, “God, please hear my aching sound.”
Just like before, he heard my troubled cry.
He made me stand up and hold my head up high.
“He is my strength”, I realized.
Why should I feel low when I am His child?
Now, here I am facing life.
I am finally happy but life is not life without strife.
Not like before; I won’t shed a tear and feel like I’ll die.
Because I am His child... born to survive.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Born To Survive by Anjelie Llorico )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)
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