Beneath the ink of every line, a force,
A wellspring deep where self worth holds its course.
In words like shields, it’s whispered through the air,
Each letter a guardian, each phrase a care.
“Your self worth is the antidote,” it reads,
To venom spit by failure’s creeping weeds.
An elixir strong against the outer cries,
That dull the magic seen through other’s eyes.
It stands defiant, potent and so pure,
“Your self worth is the counter-move,” the cure
For blindness that obscures the vibrant hue,
Of inner magic, strength that pulses true.
And in the silence where doubts like to breach,
The script proclaims a far more powerful speech:
“Your self worth is the cure-all,” a chant for those
Who battle silently with unseen foes.
A shield, a base, on which to build so high,
“Your self worth is the foundation,” the why
For every dream pursued, every breath of life,
A path to walk in authenticity, rife
With joy, with pain, with moments of clear sight,
Your self worth carries you through day and night.
Branden Collinsworth pens, with power imbued,
A testament to strength, not just a platitude.
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