My soul spoke to me but I didn't write
I didn't cos I felt the time wasn't right
When I was ready, I couldn't write
Cos I couldn't remember what I was told to write

What a loss

Heart of gold
To selfless
To keep the riches to myself
Voluntarily shared the wealth
But most were taking in the form of theft
I use to be filled to the brim
Gold coins overflowing out of the chest
Now when I look inside it
There’s hardly any left
I felt each piece that was taken
Never to be returned
Maybe I should shut the lid
But that’s a lesson I haven’t learned
My heart is to big not to share
So the lid stays open
Even if there’s a risk another gold piece may be stolen

Some child of mine
Or one of their children
Has left a cup of dirt
With a sprout 🌱
Now, I am the keeper of the sprout
Which needs a bigger cup
It’s looking unhealthy
Bigger cup acquired
Lots of attention
I dapple water to simulate rain
And even bring it to sit outside in the air and the sun
The sprout is happy
It got left with me

Not a single person has ever fought for me to say in their life
Yet I go to war for all of you
And once the battlefield
Has quiet down
Still you’re gone

The result of being loved wrong
Made me feel superficial
Betrayed by to many Lois Lanes
Turned my heart super cynical
The realization I wasn’t made of steel
Small cuts stretched until they become wounds
Seems I’ve lost my super healing
Tried to find strength in others
Instead of the sun
But no one ever ask how I’m feeling
I use to try to be the difference
But now it’s more like forget it
I’m finished
Can’t you tell by the cape that’s been torn

Attention to details is something I must’ve missed
Karma is a female
And her kisses are death
She told me my heart belonged to her
And she took it when she left
Batted her pretty brown eyes
And I lose my breath
Suffocated from her beauty
Who did I hurt
My Karmas gotten bad
Ten times worse
Golden hands, fresh pink painted nails
Clinched against my throat
Who did I hurt
Bad karma
Has me questioning my worth
She planted me like a seed
But forgot to water the dirt
Sprouted in harsh conditions
Has me questioning my worth

GOD says to me with a kind
of smile, "Hey how would you like
to be God awhile And steer the world?"
"Okay," says I, "I'll give it a try.

Where do I set?
How much do I get?
What time is lunch?
When can I quit?"

"Gimme back that wheel," says GOD.
"I don't think you're quite ready YET."

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.