Lord, you have helped me to stand
Always at your command
You have guided me through
Your uplift is my continued pursue
You are my life insurance
Your policy is my influence
Your words conquer all
Even when you call
Solid as a rock
I am one of your Flock
I stand
Upward praise
Your amaze
Sometimes I don’t understand
Your teachings concrete
You are who I seek
Don’t let my spirit go weak
Satan always defeat.

Would you
yourself recognise
in a distant time
when life's landscape
has changed
and your mind
has altered
being cast
in the crucible
of  experience
and trial?

Would you hold
to that self
that made
and shaped you
since you were
a child?

This is the battle
within yourself:
to decide
what would shape
your life
in that moment
of distant time

Life is an album
of memories
some sweet
some sour-
bittersweet
there are many!

No matter how you view it-
It's all lookings, each perspective.
You grow & you grow & you grow,
But you refuse to germinate.
Don't you know?
You must release your seedlings
If you hope for a root
To be planted.
Can't have too fragile of a barrier,
But neither too hard the shell.
Spread your wings
And do your thing,
Flaunt your laurels.

Ferrel cats creep
under porches
to escape the  
rain and snow.
Some have half  
a tail
or a missing ear.
My cats watch
them from the
safety of
the warm house.
They chirp, and
stare.

I wonder if
these pitiful
orphans once had
a home and
knew love.
Did the owner
abandon them to
be unburdened by
empathy.

I wish I could
save those wild
cats,
those princes of
the alleys.

Sometimes, they wander
over to my porch.
I put a can of
tuna out.
They look at
me with cautious
green or golden eyes.
I tell them,
it’s going to be
Alright.
I know it’s a
lie.
Winter is coming.
But I feel  
better for a second.
And that’s all that
matters in this
playground of a
world.

Don’t you think?

This too will sink I know
Like the others before
This too will go
Behind shut door.

Once a place of rejoice
Where I poured my heart
Leaving is now the only choice
And make a new start.

My work is my blood of toil
Come at a high cost
Digging deep into the soil
What I grew is all lost.

I leave this holiness with pain
Will miss all you gave
Leaving the circling dots to reign
And send old poems to grave.

Dear diary;
I find myself drained
at even the little things.
The chores, the socializing,
the emotions and the obligations.
It is no wonder I am exhausted
at the end of the day just
trying to survive.