I won’t tolerate a life in fear.
Rather release myself
and let God steer.
I refuse to keep getting off at the
nearest exit when life gets hard.
I don’t want to see the
cards a few deals ahead.
Only focusing on what I can
control and the family which
I break bread.
When struggles arrive,
I’ll continue to go outside:
mentally or physically.
Walk, crawl, or run
to feel the warmth of the sun
and the voice of my angels
whispering through the trees.
The peace is addictive.
In nature, I can just be.
Thank you God for
watching over me.
About the Creator
Real Poetic
Welcome to my imagination. ✨
I write poetry & short stories.
Thanks for stopping by! ❤️
Instagram: @therealpoetic
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Site Launch
"Hold fast to your dreams, for without them life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly." - Langston Hughes Hey! I hope everyone is doing okay and living their best lives. I’d like to share some news. I launched a website earlier today. I literally woke up out of my sleep this morning around 6:00am and was like it’s time to take the RP brand to the next level. I thought for a few seconds and figured what better place to begin than building a site. I included the direct link to the site above. So far, I will be posting the winners of my challenges and upcoming projects on there from now on.
By Real Poetic3 months ago in Poets
“Women, Beauty in Old Age”, dedicated to all middle-aged and elderly women
Many people, even women themselves, feel that when a woman reaches old age, her face will age, her figure will be out of shape, and she will be old and pale, which is really desolate.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing6 days ago in Poets
The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
That kind of peace...NO pricetag I tell ya! Great focus here.
Thank you, indeed, & may you be forever blessed, my friends.
This was so beautiful, optimistic and uplifting! Loved your wonderful poem!
Beautifully expressed.❤️ “ The peace is addictive. In nature, I can just be. Thank you God for watching over me.‘ So true… it’s like a little prayer.🙏
Yep, nature. Fixes a lot (if humans stop destroying it). Enjoyed your poem.
Beautiful, RP!