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Today I’m
  Myself
Because life
  Chooses
      me
      To
    Be me
My cutie cute granddaughter,
My sunshine, an innocent flower,
My soul in blossom,
My love, awesome,
Joyful, friendly and free,
As the wind, ocean and sheltering tree.
She is my today and tomorrow,
Whose fragrance erases my sorrow.
Never boring, impish,talkative,
Chirpy and inquisitive.
Most of the time glued to the T.V or her iPad,
Cannot do without ******* her thumb,
When scolded becomes glum,
It makes her mum mad,
With studies she is an honoured star,
My child is a blessing,a family avatar.
Happy birthday my love.
 Jun 2018 walterrean salley
T
Those restless nights.
Lay in bed, brain lit abright.
Mind off wondering late into the night.

Drifting off in theory, fantasy, and psychological harakiri.
Mind aimlessly adrift, throughout the cosmic rift.
The trivialities of unseen realities.
The complacent within societies debasement.
General hipocrisy of rampant misology.
Apostasy!

Before you know it, the dawning light.
Yet another sleepless, restless night.
Just another sleepless night....

The Sun
Fun
And
Run,
Depression undone
Anxieties none
Sadness to shun!!!


Just done....
A girl. Saddened.
But her insurance won’t pay for the shrink anymore.
Cause her mama got married, to a man that’s never round. A man that had too, lived in this sleepy town.
Don’t forget about her friends,
the ones that barely exist. The ones that taunt and tease her, the ones with balled up fists.
Even though some try, they never stick around. They always give right up on her and it’s often caused her to frown.
Forgetting to take her meds always,
because she’s just a kid. Meds for her health, but is she even sick?
Good golly gracious, she says that a lot. When things go wrong or she finds her self in an unlucky spot.
Hello, I’ve cried today. The normal, red eye look, thank god it was all over a midnight sun book.
I can’t believe the girl, the one she used to be. With the cute blonde curls, and happy family.
Just wait a minute. Let me talk to you,
stick around to read this thing and maybe you’ll learn too.
Keaton, that’s her last name, a gift from her dad. The perfect man that helps her remember the good times she’s had.
Listen very closely. I’ve lost my will to speak, lost my want to fight because I’ve gotten weak.
Mama’s always gone, all of the time.
She’s never even around to read my HePo rhymes.
No, even when she’s here, I’m all alone.
She’s locked up in her room, or on that telephone.
Oh what I’d give to take a trip on back.
To take a stroll amid my young past.
Papa (grandpa) was always rude
telling me I was “fat” and needed to eat less food.
Quit the shouting please, I don’t want to hear. These voices that are screaming deep within my ear.
Recount all your blessings, hold them close to you. Because the news of someone else is too bitter to be true.
So here I am in bed, tears soaked into my pillow case, leaving trails of salty flames down my ugly face.
To tell the truth, I’m blessed with a roof over my head, but haunted by the monsters that don’t live under the bed.
Unless something happens, and someone’s put on mute, I’ll keep hiding from those mean old things and continue to give you the scoop.
Very real and scary, showing their teeth.
They look okay on the outside, but it’s whats lying underneath.
Well I guess I could tell you a tiny bit more, but there’s a person watching, maybe outside my door.
Yes I’ll stay alive and yes I’ll talk to you.
I really need to thank poetry for helping me get through.
O.K
 Jun 2018 walterrean salley
Emily
All the thoughts are still there
Every memory
Every emotion
Every feeling

The doctors watered it down
The pills melted like the ice in my tea

And I'm left here
Feeling lifeless and dull
Uncomfortably numb
I gave up writing letters when the frost set in
Having tied each bunch with coloured ribbon
So those clearing out could identify the writer
Before packing into bags for their final home.

Mother’s letters were always playful with a lot of
Funny drawings and a multitude of little sayings
There was often a five pound note for the children
And lots of kisses and hugs to each and everyone .

They came regular at holiday times when distant
Kept us apart and she and I felt unexpectedly sad
For we lived like each other, inside tins and things
Buttons and bows, flower pots, coffee-sponge cake.

I have her letters in drawers, inside books and cards
I have her glasses and blue case, last pair of shoes
A scarf where there remains the scents of The Island
The beach and sea, salty air and a jar of cold cream.

Love Mary to her mum xxxx
I dressed  you daughter in smock cloth
It sewn with mother’s loving touch
A blue check white embroidered dots
And buttons, sashed will fasten back.
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