"discouraged" poems
Fearless Warrior prepare for battle
Stand your ground
Fearless warrior dawn your armor
Be prepared for all things-Good and bad
Fearless Warrior hold your head up high
Don't get discouraged
This battle will only be for a little while
Fearless warrior prepare for battle
Stand your ground
Fearless Warrior dawn your armor
Hold true to your heart's desires
Fearless Warrior
Don't forget to look around you
Don't forget you have backup
Fearless Warrior stand your ground
Prepare for battle
Fearless Warrior remember
you don't always have to be fearless
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
Mirror, mirror on this wall, I’ll remember you as you fall.
In slow motion you crumble, you stood so strong.
Keeping all records of their wrongs, but why?
Your burden was what you reflected, what you surround.
You fell in the open, but no one heard a sound.
Discouraged and misplaced, you shattered
All of your pieces scattered.
Broke apart to create a work of art
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
Do as ye do because thou loveth it,
and compete foremost with thyself.
Should ye happen to best many others:
Great. Good for thee. Consider teaching.
If ye happen to be worse than others:
Keep yer chin up. Seek to learn from it.
Become neither hubristic nor discouraged!
Hark! I shall be waiting at the finish line!
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
Friends, there are many(I think, I hope). So, to be fair, I will respond with this.
"Stricly an Opinion"
October 20, 2014 8:40a.m.
On August 28, 2013, strictly as a novice, and not having posted anything, anywhere, I posted my first two pieces of "literary art" on the HP site. I had previously searched other similar sites until finally deciding on posting with HP. I'm glad I did. Why?
Not knowing what to expect, I threw "1894", and "Folklore and Fairy Tales" into the "mixing bowl". Pradip and Sally were the first to comment, and I will never forget the encouragement their words gave me. Never! Quite often, I go back and re-read them, particularly when I get a little discouraged when the "writers block" syndrome decides to attack. Thank you both, so very, very much!
But that is the core of the HP Family. There is an aura, a special atmosphere of cohesiveness among its contributors, willing to offer(in most cases) constructive criticism without being cynical, and always encouraging each other. Making friends whom we may never see, whose hands we may never shake, but a friendship none the less, that is spread throughout the globe, with the thoughts that will always be there. It is a feeling I did not sense with other sites.
One thing is for certain. We never know what our readers are going to like/dislike on any given day. When we post a piece, of what we may think is the work of "pure genius" could go by the wayside in seconds. On the other end of the spectrum, what we believe is not so great, could trend in minutes.
We will keep trying.
Richard Riddle
copyright: October 20, 2014
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
What is freedom?
Freedom is the ability to choose for yourself.
Freedom is a choice between what is,
and what can be.
Freedom is empowering others to love themselves.
What is your government?
Who are these impostors who speak about the need to breath,
but won’t let us?
Who fights for freedom and equality?
No one.
These men fight against us for the slice of a pie,
lining their pockets as kids in Africa die.
The people shouldn't fear their government,
the government should fear its people.
What is the value of a dollar?
Is it the freedom to eat?
Or the cement wrapped tight around your feet,
water forced between your teeth?
Who is freer?
The Baker Boy?
Scraping by on a dime?
Or old man flush with pedigree?
Drunk with greed and the taste of fine wine?
Freedom is being faced with two equally infallible truths,
and choosing deftly between the two,
which sounds better to you?
Who is freer?
Those who choose to drop f-bombs on stage,
or those who drop bombs of wisdom in its place?
Don’t be discouraged when the one locked down is you,
when the wicked wage war in your home terrain,
when you struggle back and forth,
with the pain of being raised a Jew.
Who decides your fate?
Who decides your fate when your rent is late?
Who decides your fate when you discover your son is gay?
Who decides your fate when the crest falls flat?
Who decides your fate when the tumor is malignant?
Who decides your fate when your sutures fall out?
Who decides your fate when you find you've lost your way?
Who decides your fate when the embers die down?
Who decides your fate when sorrow silently drips across your face?
Who decides your fate when the voices inside your head can’t seem to agree?
You,
your life is yours to create.
What bars our freedom?
Oppression,
Persecution,
Indecision,
Doubt,
Hatred,
Contention,
Jealousy,
Addiction,
Pride,
And most importantly of all,
(Silence)
Fear.
Yes!
Fear is no friend of freedom,
Antithesis to the dream.
Fear is a struggling shadow,
Cast behind us as we gleam.
Contrast,
Darkness exists through the brightness of the sun.
Our predisposition isn't for failure,
But bursting forth grasping for freedom’s sake.
Don’t settle for sickly shadows,
Accept only warm smiles between friends at the end of the day.
Do you hear that?
That’s the sound of freedom,
The march of liberty.
Fear isn't the courage to stand up for a friend,
Fear isn't the strength to share what you believe in,
Fear isn't holding a friends hand when they've lost their sight,
Fear isn't within a friend’s victory finding only delight,
But freedom is!
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Your insecurities have a hold on you
You've been rotten. You know it's true.
Whispers in your ear, voices in your head
Tell you always: you're doomed, you're dead
Cheating on that test, lying to your best friend
What were you thinking when you pushed send?
Too dumb, too fat, a face only a mother could love
You'll never be good enough to ever rise above
Invisible hands are choking, spirit chains will bind
When the light is fading fast, remember it's only in your mind
The past is gone, you can't go back and try once more
Now to remember not dwell and to look forward
Learn and grow
Your insecurities have no real control
They have no power
In God's love and mercy you are showered
Pray and give them all to the cross
Goodness and joy take the place of what is lost
For He knows your heart and He knows your worth
A beautiful working creation fashioned by God before birth
So never forget how beautiful, special, and loved you are
And shine brightly for the world. You are a STAR!
Lord God, we stumble and fall so often and are prone to sin. Many times, we become discouraged and listen to the voices in our hearts and heads that mock us, tell us we are no good and feed us negativity. We acknowledge that we fail. Please remind us that you always have and always will love and forgive us no matter what. We are your precious treasure and worth more than anything in the world in your eyes. Help us not to listen or give in to our many insecurities, and help us instead to rest in the security and knowledge that we do not have to live in the past, that the future is in your hands, and to live fully for you today. Remind us Lord that you have made us just the way we are, beautiful, special, and loved by the creator and ruler of everything! Thank you! Amen.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
There are many side effects of being ambitious, but having the desire and determination to succeed is not and will never be a bad thing.
when you've encountered so many tribulations and you want something as desprestly as you want to breathe, you know that giving up has never been an option and will never be,
but the most challenging thing is that most of these people only try to minimize our aspirations and what we wish to be.
but I guess that's what we get when we're living in a city full of sorrow, deceit and unfulfilled dreams.
And nobody wants to listen when we try to tell them, but There's this yearning inside of me that everyone is failing to see.
and I have every intent of satisfying this hunger no matter how difficult it is to achieve.
I guess a side effect of being ambitious is not knowing when enough is enough.
I was taught that nothing good comes easily, We have to fight for what we want and most likely it'll be tough.
but we were born fighters with purpose running through our veins zealously, causing us to be relentless when it comes to what we crave to be.
now don't get me wrong I'll put on for my city KC, but it's not at all the place I aspire to be, and to put it simply I have to leave and I owe all of that to my ambitious personality.
a side effect of being ambitious is having unnerving passion, making others feel threatened as they try to reconstruct our visions into ideas that they can understand.
but just because they do it does not mean we have to give in.
the ball is in your court, this is your life. take control.
it wouldn't make sense to throw everything away to appease the mind of someone who has already lost their soul.
A side effect of being ambitious is having unwavering Faith.
I just wish for you to never be discouraged, because ambition will forever and always be one of the most attractive traits.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
The Date being November 8, 2016
Multitudes into the voting booth
Strides will be made in voting from our youth
Presidency and Senate all part of the race
The voting dialog will be an overwhelming pace
But the quest being, “Please All Vote”
This is not a joke
Our lives matter in this election
It requires all to vote being participation
Vote for whom ever you chose
But don’t get discouraged and just refuse
Don’t let anyone question you in why do you vote?
Just tell them you are exercising your rights being your own words being spoken
Don’t worry about being poked
America’s future becomes actions on tomorrow
The White House already has policies in place
But the new President and Senate can change and rearrange the space
Vote with all your heart
This election needs to make a strong mark
Vote for a President and Senate that offers hope
Let it be living and able to cope
Vote now and show Washington WOW.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Instant.
Gratification.
A like.
A fleeting comment.
A bit of attention.
This doesn't last forever, need I mention?
We paint picture perfect lives
as if it were the truth.
Rarely do people post about times
when they're discouraged or feeling blue.
Our lives seem enviable, but you don't see what occurs behind doors.
The mundane moments no one wants to disclose.
With social media I find myself becoming more distant, yet feeling more connected in an instant. Making so called friends that I never talk to in person. Adding to a list of people that I pretend to know and ignoring the ones I say I care for.
Then there's the selfish gratification. It's all about me. Here's another one of my selfies. But somehow I find that I compare myself endlessly. And so do you and so does he. It's a game we aren't aware we signed up for. Yet the mutual agreement is we all score.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
Master the art of
Flipping your L's (losses) into lessons
Because more often than not,
They are disguised blessings
If they sort of set you back
It's for you to bounce back
Like a catapult or slingshot (or Big Sean)
But never lose sight of your mission
The flying beautiful butterfly
Once crawled as a caterpillar
Think about the trees,
They never give up during the wintry days
They only shed their leaves
(For humans, drop the extra baggages)
But trees bounce back during spring
Sometimes, you just gotta
Take a deep breadth
And exhale peace
Ensure to keep breathing
And you'll sure get back on your feet
Calm the nerves,
Take a deep sleep
But don't sleep in the deep
You didn't fail
You only found ways that would not work
Credit to the man that invented the lightbulb
Take the blows but get back up
Very soon, the hardwork will pay off
Put in more work
And relent not
Naysayers will always talk
Don't be discouraged to put in work
Your success will soon prove them wrong
There is light at the end of the tunnel
As there is light within your spirit
Flick it on
And you'll be on a winning spree
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
What would you miss the most
if you had to leave this life
the book asked.
I’d miss you
your big brown eyes
your comforting smile
your big heart
your laugh
the tone of your voice
and the way you say, “You know?”
when you’re on an enthusiastic roll
your lively spirit
your yummy omelets with bits of stewed tomatoes
your relationship with the divine
the deepness
of connection we have
our conversations
telling you about my ****** afternoon
and watching you really listen to me
the way you cackle when we watch our favorite comedy
watching you quilt
your touch
your luscious lips
talking to you when we’ve just awakened
and the way your voice is soft and innocent
speaking our gratitude about our lives together
sharing our pain
being able to weep with you
when I am discouraged
or get inspired by something
how your eyes sparkle when I do so
the way you love our cats
caring for you
you caring for me..
Just to list a few
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
Afraid of this miserable world
I found peace in my loneliness
Discouraged by the society
And being an insecure mess
To be lonely I guess,
is simply the best.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:13 AM UTC
I have come to know who I was meant to be, or at least I think I have
I have come to know how oppression works, at least I think I do
I have come to know what is ethical and what is not, or are my lines arbitrarily mapped
I have taken time to think about my life, but have I moved forward with it
I think of my past, my present, my future the map to my life unfolding
I see what I’ve done and what I hope to experience and I have come to realize something
I am part of an enormous painting, one that is committed
To ending oppression in all of its forms from patriarchy to racism and classism
I don’t know who I am but I know who I’ll be and I know where I will stand
I am one pixel, one dot, one stroke on this painting of ending all forms of oppression
And when I get discouraged, doubtful, and drab I cannot forget this painting
For it is not a portrait of me or of you it is a painting of all of us, a painting of freedom
I will keep fighting the fight for true equality, I will not be deterred
I will listen, I will love, I will chose to speak up
Because without all of us dots, us pixels, and strokes there would be no painting
And the beautiful idea that we can all achieve liberation is a reason to keep creating
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
Don't read this in pursuit of love, happiness or inspiration
I do write this for your admiration.
So I say this once, dont be disgusted nor discouraged by what you see here below
Away stricken with anger I go. . .
Id like to take a second to say **** you* you and you
For its because of three yous that this anger ensues
I'd tried to endure it, I tried to be nice
I've now heard it not once but 3 x twice
If you have something to to say keep inside
Otherwise shut the **** up and strap in for a ride
I'm not keen nor willing to find another love
But hey what the hell we'll give him a shove
No other love will ever be better than hers
Dont need no more ******* saboteurs
I will do as I please, and love who I like
Pushy *** know-better-than-yous I thoroughly dislike
So I'll say it now and again and again
From all that stupid *** ******** I'd ask you to refrain
Now thanks for the pathetic waste of time
Didn't know taking back someone was such a ******* crime
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
...
Had a fine sumptuous meal,
And received all good wishes,
Pal you looked so happy today,
Plus 28 years you completed,
You shall remember it all.
Best moments were spent with us,
In the lab we are one big family,
Rings of halo on your head,
Today on your birthday,
Heavy meals we all had,
Doing a lunch we did enjoy,
Another birthday comes so late,
Yes, obviously of the other labmates.
Afterwards, we might get separated,
Resting and working for ourselves,
Venerated is our Dr Mohanty sir,
Inches we are getting stronger,
Never getting discouraged,
Define he does a father.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
He's the hand I felt on my shoulder as the tornado went over me . He's the one who saved me from choking to death in my own ***** . He's the one who sat beside me on the mountaintop as I cried over my wrongs . And if I ever kneeled before him he would take my hands and raise me so I could kiss his cheek . Who is God ? My best friend who has saved me time and time again . Who understands my limits and my failures but forgives me each and every time . One who is always there for me to lean on when I am tired , lonely , discouraged . One who has shown me heaven and promised a place there for me .
Who is God ? He is in me , my past , my present , and future . I am nothing without my God .
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
All the flowers slung low to the frosted ground,
But one that shone above the others,
That vibrant flower trying so hard to impress,
But the cold frosted flowers paid no mind to it,
The vibrant flower soon discouraged,
Covered it'd petals with dirt,
And soon began to blend in,
Why must we all be the same?
When we are all born unique,
They don't appreciate their own uniqueness,
So they shoot down yours,
This vicious cycle repeating,
When will it end?
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
The caterpillar was raised by worms.
The worms loved the caterpillar,
But the worms didn't know much
About the caterpillar's nature.
They tried to understand,
And they tried to help as best they could,
But when the caterpillar got really hungry,
All they could understand was that
They had never been so hungry,
And they were happy,
And if the caterpillar wasn't careful,
He would become corpulent and fat.
So in their kind, ignorant, wormy way,
The wonderful worm family
Discouraged the caterpillar from eating too much,
And being too hungry.
The caterpillar was confused,
But he loved his worm family
So he tried his best to eat less and
Not get too hungry.
But the less the caterpillar ate,
The more hungry he got,
Until he was so starving,
He didn't even feel like himself.
He felt sad and sluggish and purposeless.
Then, in the middle of the night,
The caterpillar snuck up to he favourite leafy tree,
To just get a small midnight snack.
Before he knew it though, he had eaten
An entire branch of leaves.
And the caterpillar was still hungry.
He couldn't get enough.
He ate all through the night, and into the next day.
When his worm family awoke,
They saw the caterpillar up in the tree
Eating away.
They tried their best to get the caterpillar to stop,
But it was too late.
Soon with tears in their eyes,
The worms saw they're dear brother
Become sluggish and
Tired.
Until finally
The caterpillar wrapped himself up in a whitened
Casket, and hang motionless in a leafy
Grave.
The worm family mourned the loss of their beloved caterpillar brother,
And once again warned the other children about the dangers
Of being too hungry.
A few days later,
One of the wormy sisters went to visit her brother's grave.
But when she arrived she saw the most miraculous thing!
A butterfly was emerging from her brother's tomb.
The caterpillar-butterfly
Was not angry at the worms for trying to stop him from becoming a butterfly,
They didn't know he would be able to
Be a butterfly after all,
And they were just trying to keep the caterpillar from harm.
After the family had a beautiful reunion,
The butterfly flew away to somewhere
He could be hungry, and beautiful. And
Somewhere he could fly.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
You must do it the right way
YOUR way is the only write way
They say nothing rhymes with orange
Well I am here to encourage
Yeah, go ahead and laugh at it
You don’t even know the half of it
Our poetry is for us, ourselves
Whether you’re ninety nine, or twelve
We commune within our souls
Another etch upon our scrolls
Our soul inverted, exposed
Something only we compose
Don’t ever be discouraged
Your writing is encouraged!
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
This was written a few Septembers ago. Walking on the streets of a now deserted beach island, only the leaves, in various states, to keep me company.
September,
walk with me,
under bridges of wedding tree canopies,
still green aplenty,
tho subtle marked for change,
making summer illusions,
environmentally unsustainable.
September,
stroll on pathways
of lesser, off the track, shaded lanes,
the sun blocker trees wear new necklaces,
brown and yellow diamonds,
a coming attraction of
their denouement,
their denudement.
The September trees are:
Ever so slightly stooped,
bent with weight of a surety,
knowing with high certainty,
their future, bleak,
bowed and drooped,
discouraged by the
cold travails soon to arrive.
Living in the recent past,
I am dressed inappropriately,
white tee and shorts,
past pretender,
still dressed in my
Gap issue summer uniform,
summer suspended animation.
Island streets are de-humanized,
gone home are the children,
newly fallen leaves have,
their place, taken.
The leaves are:
magically organized along
the sidelines of empty streets,
quiet stadiums of would be
kid's touch football fields.
browned, crisp and soulless,
first greet this solitary stroller,
like a cheering throng of ghosts,
celebrating a sighting -
man, as a seasonal fossil,
one that still is living
and worth reminding, yet
human too shall pass when
his fall arrives.
the leave's cheers make over
into jeers and mocking laughs:
Oh humans, they say,
your summer songs naive,
mais tres charmant.
On Crescent Beach,
the driftwood sadly forlorn,
looking more adrift than ever,
for no one passes to express
admiration at the past seasons
Nouveau Expressionism,
an objet d'art lonely,
for the beach gallery shuttered,
raising questions existential.
Is driftwood on the beach sans
human admiration,
art, truth or refuse?
I am looking backwards as the
Earth moves forward.
My own axis, my eyes,
conscientious objectors
refuse to be pressed
into service of the seasons.
No, no,
to involuntary servitude,
to rotation and revolution.
Nature's witnesses,
trees and leaves write
their own poem,
of foolish men who:
Bow and droop,
discouraged by the
travails soon to arrive,
Delaying their own fall,
finally shed summer delusions
like leaves upon the ground,
summer poetry silenced,
summer suspended, no more.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
Some get that way by playing it safe,
memorizing mantras, righteously abiding by rules,
some get there by cutting seams,
lost in purposelessness, partaking of
ether, marijuana, alcohol, or anything
that's buzzy enough,
some find their sweepstakes in curls,
in fantasies, on the internet, or in the aftermath,
some claim the spoils, some gracefully accept
determination, some divorce their wives,
some happily raise their pulse to the heavy metals,
some review albums and cut down the ********
some write love stories for our grandmas,
our moms,
our ex-girlfriends,
some find it in politics, right winging, left winging, chicken winging,
some in bomb threats,
some find it in supremacy,
others in melting pots,
some cheer up over breakroom chitty-chats,
some in **** ***
some in sympathizing with pedophiles trapped in iron lungs,
some when they have hit the bottom rung,
some by rationalizing,
boosting themselves above half-wrongs,
to coast on the half-rights,
some by breaking up,
some by declaring war,
only to get discouraged, yet proud of the scars,
some kids dance to experimental music,
some write blogs about capitalism,
some find it kicking it with bitter vegans,
others while murdering their parents,
but everyone is a winner,
everyone is right,
everyone has earned the paycheck,
the vacation,
the **** wife,
and the key to eternal life.
Dec 16, 2010
Dec 16, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
I wasn't always so easily discouraged.
I used to bristle with enthusiasm.
I glowed with it.
It didn't matter if the task was simple, or tedious, or daunting, or boring.
As though on rails, I slammed into each and every task with terrific force.
But I got older.
Things that used to come easily grew slippery.
What I used to do without thinking twice, I found myself over-thinking.
I threw the brake. I ground to a halt.
Finally, I became idle. A left-over husk of a kernel that's already been popped.
I drowned myself with doubts. Hypothetical situations that might never happen.
I lived in fear of what might go wrong.
So I began to watch everything go wrong, as though I was helpless.
I was no less able. I was no less compassionate.
But I had grown wary. Of what?
What was it that, out of nowhere, caused me to slow down?
I guess I looked down and realized that if I fell, I would not be getting back up.
When you're young, you have no worries, because nothing is relying on your success.
So you mess up a math problem. You'll get it eventually.
So you botch things with that cute girl who sits across from you. You're young, you'll get it.
Re-assurance, faithfully, unwaveringly. A safety line should I fall.
But I never really fell, did I? So why am I laying down like I have?
Get up.
Get up.
I worry about everything. I worry that I will fail.
I dread what comes, what I can't avoid. But time, and time, again, it comes, and I miraculously don't die when it hits, because I've been bracing for a train-wreck impact, a force that will really, truly, finally, definitely lay me flat for good.
I close my eyes, and brace. But the crash never comes. The silence that was continued to be.
I turn behind me, but there's no train there.
I'm starting to realize, with relief, (with horror), that maybe all I needed to do was step off the track.
I look down, and realize, with a first-creeping then-howling laughter that I was never on the track to begin with.
I look off where the track is. There's no train there, either. Maybe there never was.
Maybe there never will be.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I’ll climb it anyway
Hoping I might make it
To the top one day
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I’m in for the long haul
I’m heading for the top
Even if I have to crawl
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I’m climbing every inch
I won’t be sidelined
I’m not sitting on a bench
It’s a steep hill to climb
There ain’t no doubt
But there’s a way to the top
That I’ve figured out
It’s a steep hill to climb
Yet I’m not discouraged
All it takes on my part
Is a little courage
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I’m climbing every inch
I won’t be sidelined
I’m not sitting on a bench
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I’m not dropping out
Getting to the top
Is what I’m all about
It’s a steep hill to climb
But don’t expect me to be gone
I’m too ****** determined
Not to carry on
It’s a steep hill to climb
But I have to do it
Despite the obstacles
And you and I both knew it
Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016. All rights reserved.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Hi.
My name is Ashly (yes without an E in my name). I am 33, my husband is 47 ( yes 14 years apart). I couldn’t be happier with Brent in my life. On Wednesday, October 17 we will be together for 10 years, even though we have been best friends for close to 20 years.
April 18, 2010 we were married surrounded by our closest friends and family. It was the best day of my life, well both of our lives.
As any normal newlyweds, we went on a honeymoon, to Disney because that’s our “happy place”. Assuming we would start a family in the coming months or years.
Fast forward to today.... still waiting, and waiting....
After hearing for a couple years..
Are you trying?
Are you pregnant?
When will you have children?
The clock is ticking
Time is running out
So forth and so on...
Now many don’t ask who know
Many just wonder if we even ever wanted children or to start a family.
Seeing all my high school friends and others throughout the world posting on social media “We’re expecting”
“We’re going by two feet”
I kindly reply with a smile on my face, but emptiness in my heart. Forcing a smile and a nice gesture.
It’s not because I’m not happy for others, but discouraged with myself.
Why me?
Why us?
Are we not good enough?
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with my husband?
And the list goes on and on...
I’ve tried to tell myself “everything happens for a reason” and I try to stick by that quote, but unfortunately for this situation, it just plain *****
It hurts, it’s mortifying, it leaves unopened and hurtful scars that you can explain or be seen to anyone.
As time goes on, it gets harder to think about because let’s face it, we’re not getting any younger. It’s a constant struggle to keep a smile on my face and happiness in my heart especially with this constant void.
But....
It’s ok.
I’m ok.
We’re ok.
If it would happen at some point, I’ll be happy and proud, but if it doesn’t, it wasn’t meant to be and that’s ok.
I am who I am suppose to be, who I’m suppose to be with and we are happy. Even if that means we will never be direct parents to our own child.
We both can be role models, aunts and uncles, friends and families to others.
Although the sand through the hourglass is running thin, our lives together is where it all begins.
Happiness and struggles
Love and pain
We are one together and that’s the most precious thing I can say.
I love you Brent, with all my heart, even if we’ll never be parents, I wouldn’t want to go through this with anyone else.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
Like so many
Lemmings
they rush to southern climes for
greener pastures
year round golf a
Slower pace
Cheaper prices and
Tropical temperatures
Leathery
Tanned
Unnaturally taut and
Sun-spotted
they crowd the local haunts and
Clog the highways.
At best they tolerate whoever is not
Pensioned or
Privileged
At worst they ban the
Underage
Unfortunates
from their gated communities
and social gatherings
The pendulum has swung from a time
when the Old were at the
Mercy of the Young
to the present
when Youth is
Oppressed by Senescence
Once democracy’s backbone they now wax
Conservative having obtained their
Slice of the pie
Now there is no pie
Mother Earth has been trampled to death and the
Toiling hands of those who
Stoke the fires of industry are
Blistered and discouraged
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC