Poetry

Guilt rides up.

Depression tries to take control.

Emotions well and surge.

All from a small favor asked.

Working.

Exhausted.

Mental Fatigue.

Desire to hide.

Running away is not possible.

So turn the bleary eyes to the future tasks ahead.

I count to five.

The door is closing.

The decision was made.

He did not take the opportunity.

Now he knows how cold it is outside.

So no matter how much he meows

He is staying inside.

It is not a game

though to some it is.

It is not a shame

though you feel it is.

It is not to blame

though some continue the wheel.

It is not an angry flame

though sorrow can fire that fuel.

It is a chance to heal

or perhaps a verse

by those who have seen you

at your worst.

Her smile was warm.

She had a confidence under her shy veneer.

Kind and thoughtful.

A wisdom beyond her years.

She was a good person

Who seemed to understand the divisions.

Bridging those gaps was her specialty.

I will miss her.

I will honour her memory

By trying to be another peacemaker.

Weepy.

Emotionally unstable.

Application of strategies ineffective.

Questions asked.

Answers already known.

Anger and disappointment at the cause.

Tomorrow will be harder.

Things have gone good.

A few difficulties have ensued.

Focus on the positive.

Bad news comes.

Like Job

I may have had a good life

but not until the end

can I say whether it was good or bad.

So as night falls

I look at the day and fall asleep

knowing I did the best I could

with what I had.

I insist!

No. I Insist.

You are going to school!

No. I am staying home.

Get ready for school.

I am going back to bed.

I insist you get ready for school!

Zzzzzzzzz

There is beauty in the mundane.

The lines of the overpass as it curves through the neighbourhood.

A car driving into the sunset.

Concrete blocks maintained and erected

so a city can run smoothly.

How is it we look at such things and think ugly

when they are truly nature in a different form.

Though a dandelion poking through the sidewalks crack is awesomely poetic.

It flickers

Teasing the corner of your eye.

It warms you with it’s dances

As you sit reading nearby.

Comfort is given

And after awhile

You fall asleep dreaming

Of the spirit inside.