When God came into my life,
I was young,
Younger than I am currently,
Starting to pick up on all of the strife,
And though it stung,
I was still very naive.
Things stopped making sense,
And I felt a voice inside of me,
Telling me to confess,
And learn a new life to lead.

Everything changed,
And I opened my eyes,
I saw the world in a new light.
I felt an urge to care,
Where before I wouldn’t dare,
For better or worse,
Free from my former curse.

When God came into my life,
He showed me the light,
At the time,
When I needed it most,
To prepare for the upcoming fight.
If He hadn’t,
I can’t guarantee I’d survive.
There’s light at the end of the tunnel.
Don’t make decisions that get you into trouble.
It’s okay to cry,
To let your emotions fly,
No need to constantly hide,
Behind the layers of your mind.
There’s people who want to see you,
They’re waiting just outside,
You just have to be willing,
To search and to find.
“Knock and the door will be opened.”
If I ask.
I hope I stay on the path,
And are committed to the task.
Don’t want to go astray,
Or break away.

When God held my hand,
As I listened,
To my friend’s discontentment and resentment,
I kept my head held high.
If He wasn’t there,
I can’t say for certain I’d still be around.
When my friend attempted,
To throw away her life,
And she did what she did,
Perhaps I’d be by her side.

When God pulled me up,
From the hole I dug,
Because I believed,
That listening was enough,
To change her,
Yet, I found myself stranded in muck.
He’s kept my head on my shoulders,
When I look down,
He tilts my chin toward the sky.
He doesn’t judge me for my failures,
I wish I could see myself,
Through His eyes.

I don’t ever thank him,
For all He’s done for me,
But when my life seems to unravel at the seams,
I believe.
That tomorrow, He’ll be with me like he was today,
He’ll hold my hand to keep me from going astray,
As long as I keep on keeping on,
Along the way.
He will show me brighter days!

When God came into my life,
He showed that the world was more than pain and strife,
And as long as I’m alive,
I hope I never leave his side…

The bird is thankful
For each new day
To fly away.
Again .
To new hights.

Shell✨🐚

Once upon a time
Things were funny as Hell,
Life was worth living
And everyone had a place in this magical story
Of witches and Princes, princesess and ghosts,
Kings and queens and everybody else.

Soul users
Served some frog legs,
Delicacy today,
The witch is feeding her owls,
Keeping safe a few.
She's watching from her broom-flight
For souls she needs to use?
If they're Alright or not
She cares not.not _ not caring for it a lot
More than you thought.

Oh, well, a lie or two
Won't harm anyone!
Truth:... She speaks with a heart of true!

The witch selects her targets,
What she needs is what she seeks,
What she wants is what she cares for.

I want only my peace,
Even if louder than you May think!
But what to do? What to do?
May God help you too!

I burned my hand making Christmas cookies
for my small chosen family-
hoping that it is enough to thank them
for keeping me from falling headfirst
and loosing myself to my own mind.

A place where it doesn't matter who I am
What words I put on the paper
How I feel or what I mean
Whether it be hidden or clear
I don't have to rhyme
Follow a strict set of rules
A place where I can get all my feelings out
It is like a yellow flower in the middle of a field of cotton plants
Unique in its own way
The only one of its kind
I don't have to worry about anything being right
because no matter what I write it right to me

It is a freeing art
An art where my tears can form words
and the sorrow and grief I am feeling can paint a picture to the reader
It can produce warmth like a fire on a winter's day
The delicate lace that shrouds my heart
when I am feeling most down
lets me to freely write how I am feeling without
the thought of another
It is one art that no matter what
Practice can never make perfect
It is something that is different to everyone
No matter how much one can try
There is no box to conform to

Stumbling upon this art years ago
I look back and smile
Thanking past me
for walking into that meeting
Seeing the faces around that table and taking a timid step forward
That little, timid, shy step is what unlocked this great art
In my life and for that I am thankful

The pleasure is all mine

when I see a nickel on the sidewalk
while on my way to the bus-stop
nearby,

and when I,
the fast traveller,
see a piece of weathered poster
whirled up in the wind

and then laid there
on the roadside forgotten,
yet still retaining
its hue vivid

—the colors are still lively at the least,
nevertheless.
    My heart grows into full vivacity
    when I see such serendipity so small,

glowing in brilliance yet so lucid,
in a manner ever graceful
—no matter how tiny that is—    
from the bottom of my heart
    
    —I'm being accepted
    into thy blissfulness, which may hold
    the wonders of the world
    ever imaginable.

If he held me again today
I'd collapse into his being
In anger and regret
And thankfulness
Otherwise there'd be no change
He was once all of my heart and mind
Not only occupying my thoughts
Fogging them
I did not think of me
I thought of us
A fragile concept
One of the past

If he held me again today
It would be the last