On Trying

She stood
If standing could be called
The meek and shaking posture
That looked so cold and small.

She cried
Then, drying salt-blue tears
Resolved herself to sadness
And folded up her years

Of trying
To change what things she could
Trading everything she had
For some small patch of good.

She tried
Wondering if a difference could be made
So many were so resolute
And would not bow to change.

She smiled
Made jokes, and laughed, and danced
Cost herself her dignity
If only for a chance

To change them
She would have given all
This had been her battle
Since born to face the wall

Of sadness
So staunch and resolute
They lived inside a castle
That cursed her joy to mute

But still
She cried and dried her eyes
The boulder up the mountain
Would take a few more tries.