I would rather flowers strewn in my hair
Than a string of diamonds around my neck
I would rather the words of the neighbor
Than of the people who gain confidence behind backs
I would rather hold my candle high to spread hope
Than sit in the sunlight with nothing to do but mope
Flickering in the dark wind
Quivering from my hands which shake
There’s something courageous about a candle flame
mortiflying 