Was it a disloyal lover
Was it a selfish friend
Was it a tough time
They ask me what broke me heart
Should I must play the blame game
Pin it on a friend a guy or a place
While I know deep down inside that
The person who broke my heart was ME.
I shattered myself
I dig out the grave for my lifeless corpse with my own bare hands
I cursed my life
I subjected my heart to failures
I was the one who let myself believe that love could cure fickleness of a damned soul
I kept looking for a miracle when there was none
Was it the wrong person or the wrong time
I can't say
For I created a fantasy world in my own head
For I expected a little too much
For I was a naive vulnerable girl who believed in fairytales and looked for stardust
But that stupid little girl is gone now
Shedding the skin
This is what's left of her
A beautiful mess
The one's heart you can't break
It's already broken
Broken beyond repair. . .
We can learn alot from "Pac-Man". Just like the game, in life the enemies job is to steal, kill & destroy you. But just like the game, God always provides a way of escape when satan tries to trap you. Also just like the game, God always provides opportunity for "Power" where when you eat it the enemy gets scared and runs from you! That power we must eat is "The Word of God". Remember we don't fight against flesh & blood. We fight against spirits & principalities from wicked and high places. Be encouraged & keep fighting the good fight. God will never give you more then you can handle. God Bless.
My dear tree !
My dearest. You were so beautiful. Such beauty should have stayed hidden from the eyes of men. I loved to wake up every morning before the sunrise and look out the window and there you would be, swaying in your own pride. I would see you from a far while coming home from the school. .
Your branches were firm like my brother's arms and long and breathtaking. There you stood still, strong and unshakable just like my late grandfather, in all his Muhammad khan stance. I would come running into your arms green and fresh and I would walk under your shadow on the grass with my naked feet careless and vulnerable. But never did it hurt. .
You were a relief to sore eyes. I would listen to your leaves rustling and falling making the chirping sound when I walked over them. In winters I would climb at you to reach out to the black red berries that you bore to pick them eat them and crush them in my hands just to color my fingers purple and black and red and maroon. You gave me colors to play with even in autumn. .
I can not believe we have parted. You were taken away from me. My precious. As a new house had to be built on your grave. I am in pain. I miss you. My fallen hero. .
No dad around here to show
him the good
So the gangsters gather around
and show him the hood
Up over his head he goes to steal some gold
holds the teller at gunpoint at 10 years old
10 years old and he's holding on for his life
crossed over a rival patch and got hit by a knife
Thought he was somebody, everybody's boss
now he's just another number to the lives we've lost
The other gang celebrate like a battle won
Whilst this poor woman has to bury her son
Screaming as he goes "I wish I had died"
Begging to swap places and let her inside
written by David Smith #MyOwnWords#wordsfrom1985#poet#writer#loverofwords#ukwriting#ukpoetry#poetry#writing#igwriters#igpoets#IG#writersclub#poetssociety#love