London’s fog
has its hold on me.
I can’t see
the sun.
A wish,
a reality,
I can’t see
the beauty
of the world.
The lonely windowsill
sits to my right
but I Cannot Fight
my plight
of interrupted thinking
which has me sinking
into the fabric
of my mindset.
Petulance has no place
in healing grace.
Sorrow,
in her state,
sees death take a bow to Wit,
well lived.
She leaves me asking how can I give,
when abuse steals charity
from my hard working hands?
Petulance is scheming in his head
as Sorrow Learns To Cope, alone,
with unfamiliar emptiness.
Unfamiliar- here am I, in between
nonsense and a daydream
of what used to be.
A life I can no longer see.
So death bids a bitter hello again,
gifting me a second breath
while I watch the exhales
of another wave goodbye.
In the static I see
The Ruby Eyed Rat
of second thought
and dreary regret.
Simplicity is the command
of confidence,
conviction to bind.
Unwind only to find
her life run out.
Sitting on my shoulder
is her sweet memory,
the ghost of melancholy.
Creations of the mind
imagine up the worst.
While kingdoms are built around me,
all I can see is the dust and debris
of what used to be.
Sorrow, left to her slumber,
rests on her final farewell.
Anxiety, unrest,
coasting on the edges
of a self-possessed
sinking ship,
self-esteem mentality.
Speak up-
you are a significant
voice of arbitrary
means of understanding.
A different angle,
an anchor on your well-being,
and while still,
sailing by, is Despair
in her mask
of charming lies.
“Everything’s Okay”
or so she says.
I cannot look back
to the past of misery
deceit and mistakes laid out
one after another.
Anger- dropped
pouring to the floor
is a shred of self-respect.
Stop being angry for
the advantage of others.
Stuff It Down.
Stuff it down.
The grudge of grand proportions.
I cannot cope
in a constructive style.
Smiles and grinding teeth to the gums.
I will not open my mouth
to spew my personal truth.
It is not effective.
It is not endearing.
How I feel is kneeling,
hands holding shoulders down.
I can’t get up from a state
of self induced hate
without fighting the hands
that keep me kneeling
to indignation.
I don’t have the energy
to deal with disappointment.
Joy is found
in every
Christmassy winter snow.
What you seek to find
is hidden deep inside
your melancholy pride.
The sadness may spark
beauty in a world so dark.
Know, your willingness to pay
it forward for a day
could hand the hopeless
a new heart of gold.
In the unknown we see
a face for each story untold.
We find the willingness to give
to those with lives tough to live.
So, Share Your Sadness
with those who seek
new beginnings
and times less bleak.
I am not who I once was.
I am awake to the truth
of bitter mistakes.
Let go-
how I would love to let go
but the memory
of wayward wrongdoing
digs deep within,
burrowing in my brain.
You have grown old
-withered like an unwatered houseplant.
See, I am not like you
I am outside in the weather,
and the sun, and the rain
and the rocky terrain:
They were my friends,
when, on you, I could not depend.
I Am Not Alone!
Right for me,
what is right for me?
The sting of lost faith
touches each tale
I’ve ever told. . .
Been told before-
I am not unique
I am a relative.
I’ve strung together
every sad story
turned to idol’s gold.
See, I am golden
in my mind,
no idol, but the
sun to shine
on wintry days decline.
I melt In The Atmosphere
of warmth
and almighty adoration.
Natures being
is seeing
a harsh reality.
Natural disasters
-divine-
tell of what’s to come.
An omen of outstretched hands
-togetherness to rebuild
the city nature left to crumble.
Nature is not your friend,
it’ll weather you to a foggy end,
and in her beauty, you will see
God’s wrath among the sea.
A hurricane’s fright
headed towards your home
in the night.
With all the lives
that nature took,
how can we overlook
The Somber State of
our existence?
The thought had crossed my mind,
of you,
from time to time.
Our growing affection,
our growing life.
Learning to embrace change
in a world which never stops.
Hope is like a swinging grace,
He swoops in and takes my place.
I welcome Optimism,
He’s the family
I never had
when life grew sad.
“Rejoice,” He said,