Words for the soul

At night anytime I weep.
I smile and all my troubles aside I keep.
The joy that comes with the morning sun,
all I think about as I sleep.

let's celebrate, for we made it out our mother's womb.
For even though living got us wounds.
For the scars is a form of art.
And still our dreams we hold at heart.

Our dreams are like roses on a walk way.
Admired by strangers, plucked by friends.
Envied by some, crushed by many, but still it grows.