Poster People

As I look, look as far as I can see,
Faces over faces, blank simplicity.
Although the day may come, I make no guarentee
to see a person in the crowd -- the rest may ever be
Poster board people in denim dress and tee's,
Constants in a social formula meant to be
Worked through by the variable "me".

Putting up a poster face may screen out social squalls
But turns people seeing persons into the hardest task of all.
For a person is just a people who you happen to recall
As more than just another number walking through the hall
Because suddenly that person's not
Just some poster people after all

“to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”
― Ellen Bass

Poetry Sharing Event: It's a Wrap

selosunshineaward (Photo credit: zizabra)

  Still tuned in? The last ten days have been busy with the Poetry Sharing Event submissions and your feedback. I hope you found some poems that spoke to you.

These Sunshine Award nominations were made possible by theparasiteguy.wordpress.com. Thank you so much! The Sunshine Award is for bloggers who brighten people's lives. Now, only people with blogs can be nominated for the Sunshine Award, but there are a few poets without blogs who deserve an honorary nomination for their hard work and bravery. Their names follow the actual nominees.

Sunshine Nominees

Terri-Ceres Mejias. www.terri-writes.blogspot.co.uk: Terri Writes

Gina Quarles. GinaQuarles.com: Encouragement, Hope & Inspiration
Rakanjana Sen.  http://the-moody-khana.blogspot.in/: The "Moody" Khana

Umesh Rao. http://worthlesswordsforever.blogspot.in: My Worthless Words

Cris The Story Reading Ape. thestoryreadingapeblog.wordpress.com

Debbie Herbert. debbieherbert.com

John Berger.  http://mraybould.wordpress.com

Lynne Taetzsch. http://artbylt.blogs.com/this_written_life/

Man of Yesterday. manofyesterday.wordpress.com

robsparkes2013. robsparkeswriting.wordpress.com

Honorary Sunshine Nominees

Lama Milkweed L. Augustine

Carolyn Frances 
Tista Ray 
Murna SK
Janice T 

There are a few rules for to follow to make your nominations an actuality:

1) Post the Sunshine Award logo.
2) Accept the nomination and link back to the nominator.
3) Nominate ten other blogs and inform them of the nomination.
4) Answer the questions.

The Questions

• My Favorite Color: hazel (because I love hazel eyes)
  
• My Favorite Animal: dolphins (because they know how to smile)
  
• My Favorite Number: i (the square root of negative 1)
  
• My Favorite Non-Alcoholic Beverage: unsweet tea (and Yes, I am from the south)
  
• My Favorite Alcoholic Beverage: I actually don't drink at all. And not because I'm a snob. I don't like the taste.
  
• Facebook or Twitter: Facebook (because I can interact more with my readers)
  
• My Passions: writing blogs and fantasy (of course) and martial arts (belted in 3 systems)
  
• Giving or Receiving Gifts: I love to give gifts. My favorite part of this award is the nominating of 10 people for the award. I like that part so much I'm nominating more than 10 people.
  
• Favorite City: Huntsville, Alabama with its city built above a cave system, right by the Tennessee River and Wheeler Wildlife Refuge. What city could be more perfect?
  
• Favorite TV Shows: I don't watch live television alone because I can't recognize faces or many facial expressions so I get lost. I do like anime (in Japanese with English subtitles) which is easier for me to follow.
  

“A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone's knowledge of himself and the world around him.”
― Dylan Thomas

Poetry Sharing Event: Feedback Time

The poems have been posted. Hopefully some have piqued your interest, resonated with your own experiences, or run counter to them. All that is left is to give your feedback. If you haven't done so yet, I greatly encourage you to do so. Leave comments or rate their poems at http://dragonplume.wordpress.com, http://dragonplume.tumblr.com, or http://dragonplume.blogspot.com/ (only comments available on Blogger).

 

A Mother's Worth

A MOTHER’S WORTH

Just how do you determine a mother’s worth?

Extracted and purified from the salt of the earth.

Worth far more than mountains made of the purest of gold.

Her heart holds infinite treasures yet to behold.

She will bear the pain of her children so they will feel nothing.

Forsake herself to assure theirs will come to mean something.

Put herself in harm’s way of the blows that life often deals.

Putting herself last constantly of her own free will.

Undeterred, she will keep doing it and doing it and doing it again.

If on her very life yours should depend.

Will go on undaunted, tirelessly to put food on the table.

Keep going and going for however long she is able.

Her feet start to hurt from all the years of standing.

How she does it requires nothing short of divine understanding.

Then one day those legs buckle and finally give out.

Hoping you have seen through her struggles as to what life is about.

Mothers are quite exceptional oh, there's no doubting that.

A keen sense of awareness it may seem as to know where you're at.

Sight unseen oftentimes they are really never far.

They seem to know astonishingly how you are feeling and just where you are!

They seem to feel sometimes what their children feel.

Can sense something is bothering you is quite surreal.

The day will come when it is time to leave the nest.

Rest assured this is one of life’s greatest and painful tests.

You restrain yourself as you leave for you hate to see her cry.

As to all the things she has been feeling, well now you know why.

You would never have thought it could be this hard to leave.

You are her child and to you she will always cleave.

You close the door softly and it is time to depart.

You are now off her lap and now on her heart*

Murna Safford
  http://murna9.wix.com/novel-ideas

Precious Little Girl

PRECIOUS LITTLE GIRL

“KNOW WHO YOU ARE”

Tussled, intertwined tresses flow down her narrow back side.

She entered the world with her eyes open wide.

Beauty paled only by a graceful allure.

A precious, little girl of the world yet unsure.

Eyes of ebony, skin dewy smooth like honey.

People look at her as though she were the one funny.

Although she tried hard to keep a stiff upper lip,

The cruelty she endured oftentimes made her tongue slip.

At times they would quiver and her eyes would swell with tears.

Overcome with pain and hurt had crippled her with fear.

She learned harshly but quickly to look the other way.

Bearing the pain of denial day after day.

Frumpy in appearance but undaunted away she goes.

Strength resonates from places she doth not know.

Taking it, grasping it, at times she felt she had died.

“You can do this child!” a voice came from somewhere deep, down inside.

Although the voice that had spoken had “seemingly” since come and gone.

She rested assured from that day that she was indeed not alone.

Then one day the voice spoken again saying “Go on child you, can do this.”

“I will always be with you and you will get through it.”

“Walk on in my child down the roads riddled with pain.”

“Hold your head high and tolerance you will gain!”

She did, yes she did as she was told.

Something spoke to her spiritually from deep within her soul.

She found the courage to go on, on that awe-inspiring day.

She shouted with God’s help “I will not be swayed!”

“I am unmovable, I am unshakeable, and I am a blessed child of God.”

“I don’t have to walk around with a comely façade!”

“I know I am precious, oh yes I can see!”

“That there is so much more to poor, little me!”

Sadly there were times when her faith was put relentlessly to the test.

She tried hard, damned hard to give it her best.

She was hurt inconsolably and the pain made her sad.

For she could not grasp why people treated her so bad.

Looking past their ignorance well, was no easy task.

Her hatred for the injustices endured she tried hard to mask.

She wandered aimlessly around oftentimes with no where to go.

Confused and bewildered with her head hung low.

Yet she cloaked her pain in a beautiful, but yet wary smile.

Although she was hurting and crying inside all the while.

‘Tis not easy a burden for a child to seemingly alone bear.

Sadly when she sought solace absolutely no one was there.

Even those she held close to her still forming heart.

Pushed her away and flagrantly kept her apart.

From the very little goodness God knows she had ever known.

She remained stifled but vigilant ‘till the day she was grown.

She had to fend for herself despite her obvious youth.

But as fate would have it she would soon know the truth.

That there was no denying that she would never be accepted.

But worse of all those closest to her, even they too rejected.

So she held her little head high and said “I will not let you beat me!”

“Despite all of the things that you have tried hard to cheat me!”

“I will go on unmovable, unshakable and I will not relent!”

“Though on my destruction everyone seems hell-bent!”

One day she stood firm and shook her little fist at the walls!

Screaming “I am unmovable, I am unshakeable” then she curled up in a ball.

She rocked back and forth pulling her knees all the way to her chest.

Drawing her wee body close, nestling like a baby bird in a nest.

Unsure of her fledgling footing, with no wings quite yet to fly.

To soar to the heavens she would but give it a try.

Fall though she may, she would get up and just do it again.

Even if on her very life, her escape from them should depend.

Fighting back the tears she tried hard not to cry.

For when she got home that day, all she wanted was to die.

She told not a soul, not even her Father or her mother.

For she thought to herself surely there was no other.

She was too overcome and way too embarrassed.

To share her pain and tell of the constant harassments.

“Maybe people will accept me for that is what my heart so longs.”

That is the day when she realized boy was she wrong!

She was pushed away yet again and flagrantly disregarded.

Those who opposed her remained steadfast, and willfully hard-hearted.

So the little girl ran to her room and dropped sobbing to her knees.

She lamented and moaned “will someone help me please!”

I fight and fight and it never seems to end!

For there is absolutely no one on whom I can depend!

Her family was too preoccupied oftentimes with problems of their own.

It would have helped her in coping if more consideration towards her was shown.

So she suppressed her feelings, keeping her them entirely to herself.

She entertained thoughts of running away but worst of all death!

She was tired of being demeaned, forlorn and neglected.

Always feeling sorry for herself and completely dejected.

She knew that very day that she could take it no more.

She screamed to the heavens and fell to the floor.

Emotions overcame her as she recollected her pain.

A torrential downpour of memories engulfed her like rain.

In prayer her hands were tightly, near bruising clasped.

Reaching into the heavens, her fingers at nothingness grasped.

The little girl contrite, frail although quite nimble.

Body convulsed, uttering words indeciperherbly with a tremble.

Her tiny body bruised, her spirit fragmented and broken.

Alone in the darkness her heart’s secrets were spoken.

To her maker in despair that night she cried out alone!

“Please dear Father, please come take me home!”

She expected God’s entrance to be spectacular and grandstanding.

But how he would come really there was no understanding.

Behold! The clouds rolled past the moon and a little star did shine!

She mistook the light thinking that “maybe it’s her time.”

She took a deep a breath and held out her hands.

“Finally dear God, someone has come who truly understands.”

Alas she was befuddled and a tad confused!

For nothing emerged immediately from the light, her imagination she mused.

She took yet another deep breath and waited up all night.

For she lost her will to live and had now given up the fight.

She waited and waited but for her death never did come.

She thought to herself “then where did that light come from?”

She screamed once again “I want to go home and be with my maker!”

But the god from above chose not to come and take her.

“I hear you my child!” a voice proclaimed from above!

“I open my arms and embrace you with love!”

Much too overcome, she broke down and started to whine.

The voice said “hush now child, don’t you know that you are mines?”

Her eyes lit with joy and in the moonlight softly they did glisten.

The little girl knew that she had better stop crying and to listen.

She looked up to the voice with a melancholy sigh.

The voice said “stop sobbing my child and wipe those tears from your eyes!”

She said “Father, dear Father is it the time, the time of my death?”

“Have you come for me dear Father, to take me for yourself?”

She looked down at herself at her tattered and torn clothes.

Not dressed appropriately for her heavenly sojourn she innocently supposed.

“Well, sorry that I am not much to look at as you can plainly see.”

“But please do not let it affect your decision to come and take me.”

The Father looked down and lovingly shook his head.

“My precious, little child it is only your will that is dead.”

“I look deep, ventricle deep at a heart that is pure, and true.”

“Therefore your appearance has no bearing on how I perceive you.”

“Your heart it seems is just bursting and full to capacity with love.”

“And someday you’ll make a perfect fit here with us up above.”

“Someday!” she screamed “this cannot be!”

“I thought you were here Father to come and take me!”

As you can imagine, this kind of confused the precious little girl.

For the Lord told her to stay and contribute her gifts to the world!

Anger and sadness was written undeniably all over her face!

For she no longer wanted to stay and live in disgrace!

The little girl’s heart broke and again she was overcome with grief.

Then she looked up at the Lord with utter disbelief!

“What gifts Father? Of what is it do you speak?”

“Gifts are not what I need at this moment; it is your comfort that I seek!”

“I am poor dear Father, now I ask you who in this world is going to listen to me?”

“I have not riches, well none that I can see.”

“Riches do not define you child nor anything you can ever own.”

“It is your prayer for imminent death, which I choose to postpone.”

“Postpone my death? I have nothing Father and my life is torn apart.”

“Maybe dear child but you still have a heart.”

“Maybe she replied but I want something real.”

“Something I can touch, and things I can feel.”

“Well now child, does not your heart feel pain as you have often said?”

“Your heart must feel something, for you certainly are not dead.”

She answered “why? I cannot tell the difference, not even if I tried.”

“My heart is shattered to pieces and tonight my spirit died.”

“Start believing in yourself child the Lord said and stop asking why!”

“Stand up on your feet and you hold your head high!”

“You are a joint heir of Christ and thus entitled to all things thereof.

“All you are lacking really is just a little bit of love.”

“Often offering your love to others and wanting just a little of it back.”

“Thus I sayest the Lord have come to give you the portion that you lack.”

“There is a reason my child why you were put on this earth.”

“Though you lost the vision from doubting your self-worth.”

“I am not partial, or a respecter of position, nor to injustice am I blind.”

“And in my image little one, I created all of mankind.”

“But man deviated from my guidance and took it upon themselves.”

“Seeking power and position in their pursuits of immense wealth.”

“In your mother’s womb I watched as you were beautifully formed.”

“In a cushion of comfort where you felt safe and warm.”

“Just know that I am the God who created the heavens and the earth.”

“Yet I was there in the room when your mother gave birth.

“Now don’t go worrying child all is not lost.”

“I emerged triumphant when I hung on the cross.”

“Though the form of the cross has changed in the eyes of man.”

“I conquered death and now sit at my Father’s right hand.”

“You my dear I will never forsake.”

“I am here to prevent you from making a dreadful mistake.”

“You reasoned to yourself, you thought that no one cared.”

“I heard your cry and I have now answered your prayer.”

“How Father? How have your answered me?”

“I want to go home with you, dear Father can’t you see?”

“Everyone is too busy and they will not even notice that I am gone.”

“I spend most of my time in my room and always alone.”

“Alone? The Lord said. No child I have always been there.”

“Your family will truly miss you and they really do care.”

“Well, it does not really matter anymore Father, I just want to go.”

The Lord looked down at her and shook his head “No.”

“Now this thing that you are asking, well it is quite a sorrowful task.”

“Unfortunately my child, I will not do as you have asked.”

“No my child, I have not come to take you away.”

“You have work to do in the future, thus you must stay.”

“Sometimes your pain most assuredly will be more than enough.”

“But I promise that I will be there with you when the going gets tough.”

“No matter what it looks like, do not ever despair.”

“For I will never, ever put more on you than you are equipped to bear.”

“When all else fails child, you better believe that I never will.”

“All I ask is that you trust me and just be still.”

“From certain pain unfortunately well, you will not be excluded.”

“So you can be a witness to others is why I put you through it.”

“Yes, you have endured much child, at such a tender young age.”

“Yet the pain that you have bared has not tarnished your face.”

She said to the Father “surely there has got to be better than this.”

The Lord answered “yes and here is a glimpse of what you’ll miss.”

In the blink of an eye he gave her a view of the life she’d come to know.

Then he asked her once again “now are you sure you want to go?”

Across plains of time she saw people who’d draw strength from her pain.

It happened so quickly that she thought she was going insane.

There were children and adult alike her who lives she would profoundly touch.

Then suddenly her pain compared to theirs did not hurt nearly as much.

She saw people and places the world over spanning across the expanse of the sky.

Then Lord inquired of her once again “now do you really want to die?”

She lowered her head and she thought a moment, just a moment to herself.

Then she responded “wow, it seems that I will after all be something else.”

“I guess, well I suppose my life is not a waste.”

“I had given up hope, anguishing foolishly in haste.”

The angels in heaven all began to clap & rejoice!

“Praise the Lord for the child has made the right choice!”

“Halleluiah! This child will go on and do great things through you!”

The child answered quickly “yes Father, now I know what I must do!”

The little girl jumped up and danced in place.

A jubilant smile rounded out her pretty, little face.

“Oh Father, I am so thankful that to my pain you have put an end.”

“Oh thank you Father, people will never hurt me again.”

The Lord warned “hark; now there will sometimes still be pain and woe!”

“I have shown you for your benefit, things that only I know!”

“But watch and pray and keep a close eye!”

“Some of things you will go through, well now you know why.”

“Yes, the trials will come that you alone must often endure.”

“But there is one thing that you can most certainly be sure.”

“That I will never leave you nor will I ever forsake you.”

“And when your deed is done here, it is only then will I take you!”

“But for now go on; go on my precious, little child”

“Go on in my glory and wait just a while.”

“For in the eyesight of the Lord a thousand years is like a day.”

“There is no rush as I have chosen to let you stay.”

“I will direct you my child to things that you must do.”

“For the harvest is great but the workers are few.”

The little girl answered “thank you father, I think I now understand!”

“I will go on striving in faith and do the best that I can.”

“There is a god who loves me for me.”

“Who looks beyond what the natural eye can see.”

“How you define happiness, well that is entirely up to you.”

“But my word is my bond and will always be true.”

“Oh yes dear Father! To your love and mercy, I will forever attest.”

“For I now know who I am; I am a child truly blessed.”

A single tear rolled down her flushed, rosy cheek.

Overcome with joy she just could not speak!

The Lord said “every tear you have cried, I have stored away in a jar.

Sight unseen it may seem, I will never be far.

The little girl nodded her approval, then lay her head down.

The heavens closed before her without so much as a sound.

She smiled a bright smile, much brighter than the moon!

As the last soft beam of light drifted quietly from her room.

Although the little girl had her eyes closed rather tight.

She managed to sneak a peek as it faded gradually from sight.

She was stunned when she heard the mantle clock chime.

For barely a minute has passed as it is with time!

The Lord was right a day like a thousand, a minute to a day.

It seemed like hours, perhaps he intended it that way.

She laid her head back down and off to sleep she went.

For she knew that the message received was no doubt heaven sent.

She learned that her pain would be a ministering to those in need.

She learned this after the Lord planted & watered the seed.

A seedling that was longing to be nurtured, and destined to grow.

The Lord often looks in on her, saying “would you look at my child go!”

From that day forth the little girl learned to tune her ear.

To the voice of the Lord so that she could most definitely hear.

The people that had shunned her now seek her advice.

Rather then turn them away she instead treated them nice.

In her progressive walk of life she learned that there are no lessons in death.

She learned this from the Lord in spite of her “woe-is-me self.”

The Lord was right about all the things she would have most certainly missed!

She looks to the heavens daily and blows him a kiss!

Oh Precious Little Girl, you now know who you are!

By divine intervention you have made it quite far!

Though you be just a fledgling, not quite ready to go it alone.

Just look to the Lord for direction and your path will be shown.

As for your footsteps they will be directed as to the way you should go!

Where you will end up, well that is something only GOD knows!*

WRITTEN BY: MURNA SAFFORD-KUAEA
  http://murna9.wix.com/novel-ideas

Noteworthy Mention: The words spoken by the Lord are emboldened in red for illustrative purposes*

I'm Writing, Writing Still

I’m Writing, Writing Still

I’m writing.

Though yesterday night my mind went blank,

And I went out of ideas.

Yet I’m writing….

Writing still for myself and others.

It’s my job. Isn’t it?

Although at times writer’s block comes much as a shock,

But I go on, on till ideas breed ideas.

Until I find a friend in that same writer’s block,

Who holds my hand, and guides me out of it.

Writer’s block or not,

I keep on writing….

Because it’s my job on earth.

I’m writing, and will keep on doing so,

Till heaven snatches away my pen and ends my game.

                                                                            - Tista Ray
 The Official Website of Tista Ray: http://tistarayofficial.weebly.com/

Glasgow smile

They said it would be easy,

As easy as breathing ‘s supposed to be,

Stretching a few muscles, to banish all pains,

A dose for a day, a few more to keep sane.

For Mother declared she was worried ,

And it displeased Father to see me lost;

My friends lovingly mobbed around me,

And over charred emotions, my smile embossed.

And I smiled as life rolled on,

I smiled at its mandates and jargons,

I smiled for the days to end,

I smiled for it is easy to pretend.

And I thought,

May be shadows do lighten the dark.

And bullets fly for they love the beating heart

But I feel them now, closing in,

See their fingers and arms stretched,

The corners of my mouth twitch uncomfortably,

And my blood boils for selfish carnage.

Some hold my lips,

Some pull my chin,

They spread my mouth

To a hideous grin.

My eyes pop out,

Something quietly dies,

I face the world,

With my Glasgow smile

 Rakanjana Sen

 http://the-moody-khana.blogspot.in/: The “Moody” Khana

There is the crowd and here is me

There is the crowd and here is me,

In an attempt to find unity,

I bridge the gap with eager steps,

Jostling for a place in the mesh.

It’s hard to breathe.

It’s hard to see.

I feel so tiny in this throng of human bees.

Buzzing and moving, to gather, to store,

An array of minds all synced to a single core.

I met Jack, on his way from work,

He’s a party loving and hardworking clerk,

He hates to be dull, and thus makes sure --

Like everybody, to follow the new haute couture.

His wife is happy, his new car’s working fine,

His boss laughs at his jokes; in fine hotels he loves to dine,

He hoped I was good, but didn’t ask for more,

His chaps were waiting, with beers and cricket scores.

I saw Jack waving a bye, vanishing in the swarm,

Leaving me wondering,

In the rush, unarmed.

I stood aside, as the crowd pass by, a moment and some few,

I mused about why Jack was called dull,

--- and not me nor you.

 Rakanjana Sen

 http://the-moody-khana.blogspot.in/: The "Moody" Khana

Family

The leaf shrugs off the persisting chains

Farewell to parental bough!

Blows away with sailing breeze

Dispossessed, aimless.

The leaf knows not its solitary fate,

Destined to wither in some foreign earth.

An Original mistake, not time enough to learn, but suffer.

The wind blows away, to scavenge another soul,

Stealing the vestiges of a happy dream,

Suck the hope from the shivering dawn,

Caress with a cool finger, those warm cheeks,

It flies hence.

Dispossessed, aimless,

Eternally unloved.

 Rakanjana Sen

 http://the-moody-khana.blogspot.in/: The “Moody” Khana

Poetry Sharing Event Reaches the Half-Way Point!

Now is your chance to give back to the poets brave enough to share their poems about writer's block! All the poems touch on some aspect of the issue but each poem does so in a different way. Why should you give feedback on these poems? Aside from their bravery, these poets sincerely want to connect with and help others. So let them know you are reading. Leave comments or rate their poems at http://dragonplume.wordpress.com, http://dragonplume.tumblr.com, or http://dragonplume.blogspot.com/ (only comments available on Blogger).

The Battle

The Battle

In a battle between words and will

My passion was unfading,

Until I was hit with a writer’s block;

The humiliation was degrading.

My head reeling, I recoiled,

And took a shaky step back,

Trying to clear my head

From the force of the rude smack.

I looked about for the culprit,

Searching all around.

The guilty party I’m afraid to say

Was nowhere to be found.

I picked up the writer’s block,

Its weight was a lot to bear.

As I held it my mind grew cloudy,

One thing, it seemed, was clear:

This writer’s block, this unwanted load,

Took away my will to write,

All I could manage was fifty words

Of obscure drivel and elaborate trite.

This couldn’t be happening,

No, no, not to me!

How could I fight the block,

And somehow break free?

It seemed impossible when

My imagination was shutting down.

I threw out my blue ink pen

And on my face formed a frown.

I had thought I was immune

To the curse of the writer’s block,

But I was just like the others –

A writer down on her luck.

What was it about this block,

That made writers want to quit?

I would not give in

Until I had beaten it!

I was not afraid of some

Second-rate wooden cube,

Whose only talent was

Putting me in a bad mood.

Unsheathing my sword from

The leather belt ‘round my waist,

I shifted my stance;

For impact I was braced.

The writer’s block quivered

Beneath my stony gaze,

It knew the time had come

To count the last of its days.

With one swift blow,

The block was no more.

A smile danced on my lips:

I had finally settled the score.

Ignoring the sliced remains,

I proudly took up my pen

And settled down in my chair,

Ready to write again.

Terri-Ceres Mejias

www.terri-writes.blogspot.co.uk: Terri Writes

Let It Be

Let It Be

Image courtesy : Sweetestsin2862

This poem is a message from a father to his dear child...

Sleeping peacefully, my dear baby, so lovely and mild

Three words I would like you to know, my child

"Let it be"

Sometimes you will give your best

Yet you might be nowhere close to the rest

Just let it be

Sometimes your heart might be broken

With only memories left as a token

Just let it be

Sometimes you have to forget your long wait

And walk away with a losing, disappointed gait

Just let it be

Sometimes all your efforts might go in vain

You might be left with just regrets and pain

Just let it be

Sometimes life may get rough and harsh

But never allow your mind to be marsh

Just let it be 

Sometimes close to victory, you might face defeat

But do not let your confidence go offbeat

Just let it be

Sometimes when you are very lost and confused 

Know that, within you, I am always fused 

So just let it be 

Umesh Rao

http://worthlesswordsforever.blogspot.in: My Worthless Words