I have always been who I am.
However, there have been phases of precious time, long lost, where I was
filling-in the roles that selfish people had me play.

Being one that never wanted to disappoint, they mistook my kindness for weakness - but I always new
that I would give-up show biz
one day!

It wasn't all that long ago
that I decided to make my final courtesy, and take a bow
for the very last time.

It was on that day
that I stopped insulting my soul -
it was on that particular day
that I apoligised to myself,
and I became 'all mine!'

I was never one to disappoint,
but I really owed it to myself.

I gave all glory to my God,
and to my soul...
I did it for the warrior
hiding within - my true-self!

Finally,
I came to the conclusion
that no one will
love me,
know me,
or care for my soul's needs
the way that I can.

I finally came to the conclusion
that I was just as selfish
as everyone else - because I had
cared more for others
than i had for myself.
So, I devised this plan:

I will be who I was born to be!
Sincere, kind, compassionate, empathetic, honest, forgiving,
and generous...
but smarter, and wiser,
than the average man
or woman!

By Lady R.F ©2016

there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.