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I exist in fragments
scattered over years and moments
of love, of joy, of pain.

In fragments held by people;
I hope they need them someday
if only a brief remembrance.

In fragments lodged in places
where I've been or have wished to be,
where I loved, I laughed, I cried.

In fragments in your heart
that I broke myself for.
Those fragments I may not find again.

I exist in fragments
broken but knowing
that maybe we all need a fragment of me.
  Jun 2018 Shimwa Augusta
forestfaith
You should never hate yourself.
You should never sit in a crowded room and feel lonely.
You should never feel abandoned in a group of friends.
You should never change yourself because of other people's opinions.
You should never think you are not enough.
Please don't hate yourself.
Please don't feel lonely.
Please don't feel like an outcast.
Please be yourself.
Please, you are enough.
Please.
If you ever think no one loves you,
just know that the King of kings, the Lord of lords, loves you so much.
But I know sometimes you will feel this way.
I understand, but maybe I don't.
Just, please.
Don't hurt yourself.
In any way.
Please.
heyoooo,
Well, you should never ever feel these way.
love yourself and stay true!

wow wow wow, i did not expect this to happen, but anyways, i really hope all of you are blessed and that this poem helped you!! God bless yall! truly humbled...
Shimwa Augusta May 2018
And if we're no longer slaves
Why do we lend an ear to
the demons' voices?

And if  we've been saved,
then why do we still believe
we're chained?

And if we're children of God,
why do we care what the devil's prickle
Can hurt

And if we believe,
why don't we thrive?
why don't we conquer?

For we're slaves no more,
For we're powerless no more
For we're worthless no more.
I'm no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
~Bethel Music got it right
Shimwa Augusta May 2018
Glory to you
Omnipotent, omnipresent
Days are worthy cause you live

Fill the empty from up there
Adviser in all, from up there
Teacher guide us,from above
Hear us out ,from down here
Everything here's a mess
Resting on your arms we long
Shimwa Augusta May 2018
Wings stained with longing
cries of misfitted sound
Melancholy raging deep down
Soul the shade of a rainy cloud
Yet she wears them  proudly
With a matching gown and grey halo
"These wings are meant to fly,"they say
But hey,
What are they worth?
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