Adrenaline rushed through her veins with every step she took towards the door. Bile rose up; the wan widow heard her blustery thoughts roar.

Breaking the frontier of sorrow she went on, the forlorn widow finally stepped over the threshold of grief.

All eyes on her, she’s standing strong. Walking with grace, holding high a flushed face. Wearing colors a shade brighter than the rainbow, she spoke to the world, voice deep and mellow, “I am not needy, I am still brave. My loss didn’t make me weak; I am stronger than ever, this is just me fighting the rude world back with all my grace.”