Why is it that our trying never seems
good enough,
our successes a fluke
and our merits, meaningless?
And why is it our failings
come as such a hard blow
cracking our heart in two
and destroying our
inner self.
Our selfbelief banished
in fear of vanity
in a soeity where we've
come to fear taking pride
in being who we are.
When the rain is pounding
and friends have left,
thunder is howlinng and all
good fortune is lost
Bend down amongst the
fringes of your soul
and collect the fragments
of your sufferings and the
forgotten happiness you
once knew.
Piece them together
one by one.
Each crack and
each splinter of
a broken life in it's
rightful place.
Stand back as
the storm begins
to cease and see
clearly; youreslf for who
you really are.
Stare in pride
at what you've collected
and discover
what was wished to be unknown
but now is staring you
proudly in the face.
Look beyond the crinkles
of heartache and deeper
to the truths of certainty.
The shards of discomfort
shaped your pride for you
allowed yourself a grin
of triumh as you gaze at
your
reflection,
glistening, shimmering
and
shining in
it's splendour.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Wonderland
PoetryI decided when writing what might be the last poem in my poetry book "Seeking Hope in Poetry" that the poem "A new year" is about new beginnings and fresh starts for the new year, it would make sense to start a new poetry book. I can't say for cert...
