The world is mine to adorn
to fit tightly on it's sleeves
to sit justly on its leaves
as it swings in merry go rounds

The world is mine to view
to slice and unwind at it's feet
to love my own heart alone
as they swing in merry go rounds

The world seemingly can't change
people creep to find it's use
whilst other speed and abuse
as we all swing in merry go rounds

The world has taught me nothing
yet it I can learn something in it
to be free, fearless and dutiful
to escape from its pawns and cons

Scars conveyed on thin skin,
from cuts made down soooo deep,
an memories will change us, true,
if we let them flow an seep,

Don't hide out alone with pain,
or let it come around an creep,
things will be different,
a promise I can keep,

So stay positive.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Little Bird flew over the hill
because someone said the
green grass was bluer over there

Little bird was canary yellow
But only on the inside to see

He dreamed of
peacock feathers
Bird of Paradise
rthyms and ways
He was way over his head you'd say

But little bird
was born a sparrow
Brown , ugly , and ruffled
He wore all his emotions
on his wings to display

But one day the cat caught the sparrow
And it was quite a harrow
His feathers you'd might say
Became fiber the old fashioned way

.

    Memories
    are like
     footprints
        in the sand.

         They tell...
          In so many
          fragmented
          tales,
         where you
         came from.

        How far
       you've walked.
       How lightly
       you've trodden.
        And how hard
         you've dug
          your toes
            in deep.

             But...
             Unlike
              footprints,
            memories
           don't get
           washed away
            so easily
             by the tide.

.

I've driven myself in
to the valley of deserted
Tears.

To where it's too hot,
while living is an isolation.

There's no river nor
lush forest around,
its as dry as the desert
sands, then humidity
strikes your nerves
that you'll feel
overcooked.

The crimson sky
Bleeds of its inking
Beauty...

I on the other hand
solidify my strength
to ease the burden
I carry, as i lift myself
Little by little towards
A meaningful step
For SURVIVAL!

© pax