Mental Health
THE LITTLE GOLD RING
THE LITTLE GOLD RING My mam and dad bought me a child’s gold ring when I was one, They had no savings, so I know it must have been hard for them, It sat upon a shelf inside our living room for years, I don’t think I ever wore it, but it was bought with love and care.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
Haemorrhage
There is a silence that follows me, Wherever I may go, It knows the things I never say, The wounds I never show. There is a shadow near my feet That walks when I walk too, It keeps a list of every flaw And every fear I knew. It tells me I am not enough, That I have lost my way, That all the dreams I hold so close Will slowly fade away. It counts the nights I stayed awake, The battles never seen, The moments when I smiled outside But broke apart within. It says, "Do not reach too far, Do not attempt to rise. The fall will hurt much more than this, So stay beneath the skies." And sometimes I believe that voice, I let it choose my pace, I build my walls a little higher And hide from open space. But somewhere underneath it all, Where fear cannot remain, A quieter voice is calling me Through every storm and rain. It says, "You are not finished yet. You are more than what you fear. The road may bend, the night may last, But morning still comes near." So let the shadows follow me, Let them speak of what I've lost. I have carried heavier things before And survived the weight and cost.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Poets
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER Never point your finger when your hands are far from clean, You may think you hide your dirt, but I can see what lies between. You throw your words like daggers, thinking I will take the blame, But shit often gets flung back, and it rarely misses the same.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE?
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE? Who picks the roads we take when the morning starts to rise, Do we choose the paths before us, or are they written in disguise? Some roads are bright and shining, with the sunlight dressed in gold, While others hide beneath the shadows, where the bitter winds blow cold.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
