There are no rainbows without rain.
RISE ABOVE THE SMALL MENTALITY.
These folk have not experienced my darkest hours nor walked in my shoes.
Jealousy is a heinous crime to a person’s soul because it doesn’t take into account what the other person has and has yet to go through in life.
RISE ABOVE THE HATE of those who will never know & if they do hear a whisper of truth have no clue.
Judgements have no place in my world for those who don’t have a clue.
They tried to hit me where it could have hurt not me but my family
Gentrify their neighbourhood watch
cos I fly without further a due
I am not who/what they think I am ..
Oh, wait.. they made my case to succeed stronger.
THANK YOU, to my foes
You have made my goal closer.
I see that now.
I find it replenished
I am not down
THANK YOU for fueling my desire to start afresh better now than when I thought I was due
to give life to a new beginning.
these are my words. Simple words yet… meaningful to the author.
I’m craving for a time when the snow would level me out
From the bathtub bottled gin
That takes 20 minutes of focusing the mind to open
I need a lie down before I put the bicarb salts to indulge my sins
I sit here dying my hair
I don’t want to disintergate this mortal skin
I know won’t compromise
They won’t grant me a dividend.
In the positivity I feel when my nonsense brings me more clarity
The urge to give in to that initial rush.
Knowing that skiing the slopes of the cold rush
will end in a broken arm
A splinter to embarrass my ego
Show me up in a self-delusional femur propped up in a white cast in a sling.
Won’t humour my smile or bodily akin.
Write to recover
Write to reform
No, reaffirm I’m better without my foes
I used to call my brethren l.
I’m better now
Don’t ruin it
For brief a 30 second thought I sniffed out as win-win
Actions become our past
The future can make it count without losing an ounce of my heart to the demons of the crypt.
I won’t sin.
My hearts in my gut
My tears already fall in that tropical fashion
My body already heaves with my breath like a speedy version of listening to the tides pull back and pull in -pushing my head under the ocean and forcing me to taste the entire body of it’s salty tears
Great gatsby, watched the birds flying high,, then Mick Jagger ruined it with collagen his rub dub ( step on a feather) overload and a fish called wonder …..and a bubbly flute – could be a poke up with magic tab if it is a Manual – (booked up) ermm… Mario – lumber jacked it plumber whose coin with a blush flush niacin face yet
still, a top draw unless you gamble with a new song for the experimental …. pick up the dutch bells and call it a half score. Call it a four-spade (perhaps ditch) lucky clover…I see a bubble of incoherent babble about thereabouts: hearts bleed, spades are in need and the aces egos blissful ignorance they don’t know the. Once a (ponder) time from the ENDh no GGBE pollen (was hurt in this catastrophic verbal conspiratory once (upon a time)