[3 February, 2020]
6:39 Pm.
P.S This is a peom,
based on a thought,
Inside my head.
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Calmness inside,
Implies,
How I am,
Good.
The state of my mind,
Usually messy,
Is now,
In order.
Or maybe,
I'm just not thinking,
Too much,
Like I always do.
Constant, Focused breathing,
I don't count each breathe,
That I take,
Like I used to,
Every once in a while.
Now,
I breathe,
Allowing myself,
To pull free.
What from?
They ask.
To where?
They wonder.
I sigh always,
Before I reply,
'Do I even need to answer?'
Why is it, that you are never,
At all happy,
With what I write?
When I am dying,
From the inside,
Each of mine,
Becomes too depressing for you.
Or when happy I am.
You do not find,
My poems,
Good enough.
They are either too dramatic,
Or too simple for you.
Why do you not accept?
That this heart of mine,
Can also feel,
More than pain,
Or happiness.
That they are times,
When the feelings I feel,
Imply that I'm okay.
But not so as you think,
When I'm 'okay',
It does not have to be,
A break from pain.
Or myself,
Not feeling,
Anything dramatic.
Consider again.
Which do you prefer?
Honest poems?
Or fake prayers?
So this,
I tell you,
Is what I feel.
A feeling,
A 'normal' feeling,
Felt,
All the time,
But,
hardly ever,
described.
I'm feeling,
Good.
YOU ARE READING
Songs That My Heart Sings. ✔️
Poetry*Here are some songs that my heart sang.* Broken, battered, but beautiful, I hope you get to see this book as I do. For it whispers secrets that were never said, and carries a bittersweet taste. And a promise, of everlasting hope. Lets trace these p...
