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Looking back I can see, how it all must have looked from your eyes.
The true nature of my actions, my words and my lies.
I admit there was something wrong in my mind
And it's only now I can see all the signs.
I broke myself for you, I made myself small,
I tried to be what you wanted, I gave you my all.

But it didn't matter what I did, what you wanted wasn't me,
I should have given up, and set myself free
But instead I kept smiling, "I'm fine" I lied.
I don't hold it against you, how you cast me aside,
But you see, when I finally gave up hope,
Life overwhelmed me and I could not cope.

I shut myself in, and everything out,
left alone with my mind, self-pity and doubt.
Like rot in my brain and decay in my heart,
It ate away at my passion, and my strength fell apart.
Forgive me if I blamed you, it wasn't your fault,
But I was bitter and tired, and blame is my default.

Then came guilt, a tsunami of shame,
When I realized that I was the one to blame.
In my selfish need I had broken our connection,
Wanting more than I deserved of intimacy and affection.
And here I stand, without you by my side,
With a broken heart and wounded pride.
Who made you the centre of my universe?
Because it sure wasn't me.
Do you think that I want my life to revolve around you?
like i'm just a planet orbiting the sun,
A pair of jeans in the washing machine
Or flotsam in a whirlpool.
I don't suppose you'd understand,
How dizzy I get,
after a day around you
Or even a few moments.
How I can't keep my balance
And the world sort of tips
till' everything is inside out
backwards and all mixed up.
Except you.
because for some reason
the only stable thing
in this topsy-turvy world
is you.
not really sure how this came out.. critique welcome
the other day
I occupied a chair
at a sidewalk café
watching the vanity fair of the quotidian
float by in quickly changing apparitions

an endless flow of different ages, nations, fashions,
skin colors, miens, ****** expressions, postures & gaits
kept passing through  my field of vision

it made me wonder why
some people get so furious
when they  just hear about
    not even meet
    the ‘others’ different from themselves
that they start dropping  bombs and shooting rockets

I think they rather should be curious
and eager to discover
how the immense variety of humankind
can help expand a locally grown mind

and recognize
that we are all of the same kind
 Jan 2017 Paul Butters
Lady Bird
there are as many definitions
of poetry as there are poets
as a writer I feel poetry is
a form of art; the antidote for
depression an illness that can
take a away all hope from a
determined soul with a passion
for living life but not enough
strength to climb from the deep
pit of darkness that shadows the heart

I know from experience that
poetry is a powerful antidote
yet it may not cure depression
but will help keep it under control
my mind I know is an ocean flooded
with feelings, emotions and thoughts
when its too hard to say what I feel I
grab my pen and poetry become the paint
of my unspoken thoughts

poetry is my lasso of words that has
pulled barbwire of confused thoughts
from the crevices of my thinking mind
bridging from the rocky cliffs of frustration
to the solid valley covered lands of peace

hidden in the hovering clouds of depression
is a locked door that blocks the exit of
a crisp and clear wonderful world holding
the true beauty of imagination hostage yet
to free the darkened soul use the antidote for
it is the powerful key unlocking creativity
as a writer I call this; the key of "POETRY"
The cold end of a moonless night
I was drifting in a graveyard
Where the stones spoke of who rested there;
“Loving Son”, “Dear Mother”, “Veteran”, “Beloved Child”.

I was drawn to a tombstone marked “Unknown”.
The burden of being buried without the
Comfort of a name weighed heavy on me as the
Sky lit softly, pushing back the darkness.
And I knew it was time again to slip beneath
The nameless stone where I must wait for night to call me up
And I can search until I find enough tears shed for me
To equal those I caused.
Just about everyone likes ice cream
You can please some people with chocolate, some vanilla,
except for people who  might like fro yo,
among them the ones who like chocolate or vanilla
unless they want sherbet.  

Or maybe you can leave them to their choices
And try to please yourself.
Maybe not much of a poem, but the thought has gotten me through a lot of crazy moments
Life's limitation,
are only held by one's self...

Hopeless thoughts,
is where it starts.....

Life's emotions,
starts the notion...

Of a life,
we can't have...

Stress and burdens,
responsability and hurting....

Fear of not having,
is a wrong thought...

Drive and devotion,
is the right potion...

So hold your light,
into the night...

With love in your heart,
and control of your mind....

Work out life's problems,
and life will be fine...
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