Glee Of The Withered

I learned to look upward when I was looked down upon. The vigor and hues of my life the zest and zeal when erased off with rejection dejection and humiliation my freedom well reined in or harnessed by the rest those moments when the meaning of my existing darkened those bleak moments prompted me why this? In those moments when my heart bent up to my feet I remained calm. I never tried to prove myself or defend myself. I was quiet because I realized that if I speak I speak for or against the rest but if I keep silent I introspect myself. At times my raw human weakness did drag me with those bottled passions and pains; it made me wither and weak. Soon a divine spark of inspiration prompted me to go on. In the wee hours of the night my mind murmured all the agonies pains and pangs that I bottled the silenced feelings echoed from within whispering to me Don't get withered but bloom and to be GLEE. Those divine sparks of imagination and inspiration soon took on poetical lines. That is GLEE OF THE WITHERED.