Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ursula Jones Oct 18
Forsaken anew; / failure’s company
Saturnine, my soul; / assurance broken
Order to chaos; / fractured symmetry
Alone with failure / Hope was yet token

Blood in the mirror / oozing lethargy
The instrument held / in the victim’s hand
Lambasted pride’s pith; / pain the elegy
Drip down, down to dirt; /soul’s vice reprimand

The high price paid for / blind cowardice proud
To slough shamed sin sets /my soul to quail
Failure to stop pride; /sanguine stained I stand
My blood measures short, /to sin-siege, I fail

But God is faithful, / redeemer belov’d
His blood ransomed me; /Praise to Him who loves
I wrote this poem almost three weeks ago after I failed to come clean about a mistake I have made repeatedly. It was the first time I had hurt myself as a punishment to me, instead of a vindictive act toward others.
I hope it helps someone make better choices than me.
Ursula Jones Oct 22
Graceful Suffering
By Ursula D. Jones
Palindrome Poetry (Mirror Poem)
November 6, 2023

Suffering gracefully is always giving in gentleness,
Smiling cheerfully in enduring pain and grief.
Learning wisdom in silence and loneliness,
Pensively guiding and directing frivolities composed of youthfulness.
Only healing for longing, wounded, and lonesome hearts,
Friendship offered and taken. Never returned companionship.
Suffering graceful, with happiness for all, never jealous, nor spiteful.
Peacefully—
spiteful, nor jealous. Never. All for happiness with graceful suffering,
Companionship returned never. Taken and offered friendship.
Hearts, lonesome and wounded, longing for healing only.
Youthfulness of composed frivolities; directing and guiding pensively.
Loneliness and silence in wisdom learning,
Greif and pain enduring in cheerfully smiling.
Gentleness in giving always is gracefully suffering.
I live with a lot of chronic pain despite my youth and this poem is some of my observations from that life. It is supposed to be a contradiction between what is seen (the first part) and what is felt
Ursula Jones Oct 16
To grow old young is to lose inherent innocence,
And to see the finite nature of life, even while death is years
Off. It is to throw off the follies of childhood and don the weight of
Aging. Yet to grow young old is to be ignorant; in bliss and freedom, weightless.
To find happiness in life and to laugh at the world, worriless
And light, able to take flight. But which is better?

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.

To grow old young is to sacrifice the beauty in youth–
Surrender it to the leaping fire that refines the ambitious into
The heavy-burdened souls of the wise. People must grieve the death
Of endearing ignorance and instead, see sorrow and mistakes remake youth.
But to grow young old is to put a smile on the faces of those around them.
To fly away with dreams and to get back up after failed attempts and
Laugh off trials. Yet it is also to set people’s jaws grinding as they
Wonder why they have not grown up. But that is all the fun.

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.

To grow old young is to embrace the long run with diligent
Care. To embrace trials with patience and to comfort those who
Are caught in the sorrow of watching youth and joy die. This is good.
To grow young old is to be light-hearted and laugh often and to
Make others laugh too. To be there to lift others up when they fall.
And to rise again and again, no matter the fail. This too is good.

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.

— The End —