Poetry On A Roll

Some questions come with hidden charges.
If you step outside of the box,
that’s considered uncharted territory and is a no-no.
Some people want you to stay in line and be a good little slave.
They’ll tell you pretty little responses or use nasty little daggers
wrapped up neatly with a bow and tie just to keep you silent.
Whether you stay mute or no, it’s up to you.
Your voice, no one should tell you how to use.

I am the example
I use to push my children
to stand up and make a difference.

I use my failures and successes
to encourage them to aim high.

All of the lessons I try to instill in them,
I make sure those same lessons are instilled in me too;
I need them to see that I am more than my words.

A burden was placed on my shoulders as a child.
I carried the “weight of the world” like it was my own.
Often times, I wore it like a badge of honor.
I grew up feeling sorry for myself.
I thought I was living in hell
so I rehearsed the pain over and over again
until I became that horrible pain,
it hurt so bad I wanted to end my life a thousand times and one.
I cried so much and so often
now I don’t even feel the need to cry
even if the tears are on the verge of falling down
even if my life depended on it,
the water wells have dried up.

Ears itch,
they get scratched
and flees fall off
as they are spoken.

Words pitched up like a tent,
those empty pretty little words,
tied up with a cute, neat bow,
they hold no merit.

Instant nonsense.
Microwaved gratification.
Unweighed and sealed with love.

Every day, I tell my children
I love them.
I want them to know
that they are loved.

Precious words
I didn’t hear growing up.
It’s still foreign to my ears
when I hear those sacred words.

Even hugs are alien to me.
I’m just not used to love.

Serving God
comes with a price,
you must be willing
to give up
your “old” self.

Each day
feels like
ONE day.

I’ve been awake
for a while now
though I’m still asleep in some regard.

I began to see the many things,
we’ve been programmed
to miss with the naked eye.
Though the truth is still condensed
and marked with upgraded labels.

The moment you stop
supporting someone else’s dreams
and start funding your own,
they curse you out
and dash you away like trash.
Your enemies live closer to home.

I’ve always been
my own version of brave.

Although in my eyes,
I’ve swallowed
nothing but fear.

I’ve lived a crippled life.
Paralyzed.
Held back by those invisible bars.

I never did succeed
in fitting in,
no matter how hard I tried.

Though the road is broad and inviting,
open 24/7.

I was never able to fit in
like the amazing puzzle piece
I thought I was meant to be.

I was never the right fit,
even when I met
all of the right criterias