Skeleton/Poem Share

 

woman looking at sea while sitting on beach
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She paid for their selfish ways

Made garments to wear from all their disarray

She never asked for any thing from back then

Maybe just an answer, or maybe just kin

She carried their troubles and ways on her shoulder

Unknowing that she also dragged behind her, a boulder

Helpless she was against all their formal displays

Unwillingly having to participate along the way.

Her crime was that she loved too willingly

Hoped beyond the greatest hostility

She wanted roses instead she became their thorn

Her heart was betrayed, tattered, and torn.

No one could handle her problems nor did they care

This was her life and her shame that she had to bear.

Because of their hearts, her life was a mocking reminder

Of all those skeletons that would come out from behind her.

MwsR ❤

Adopted, yes me!/ Personal story share

I already post so much daily but I had something I needed to share.

 

I am adopted. Many things around that helped me to become who I am today. I know there ae many of you out there who have contemplated adopting and I would not want to discourage that by any means. I just want to talk about my story. I know there are many out there like me, who have a story different from the ones you hear. The television, books, and news make adoption out to be the best thing sometimes, and while that is the case for many, it is not for others.

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I am not a “bash adoption person”, on the contrary…

If you can love someone completely, without bias or harm, then do it! Lots of children, and others need to be adopted. They need love, nurturing, caring and a stable home environment.  If though you are seeking adoption for any other self satisfying urges, desires or fulfillment, or to be a “savior” to someone then you might want to think about it over again. No one wants someone to adopt them out of pity or because you feel like being a good Samaritan. They want actual caring, selfless people. Humans are and must not be an “agenda” for anyone seeking monetary praise. You are not here to necessarily “save” another individual. You might find you are the one who they save. Just saying.

I was adopted as an infant. I did not have my world turned upside down by being ripped out of the arms of my biological parents. I did not have a life where I was taken from the only family I had and given away to some orphanage. I was not found on a door step.

I was adopted by a family member. I was adopted in a court of law. I was too young to decide where I wanted to go and frankly I did not have a difficult time being placed in my relatives home. I was a baby! Some other people may not have had the same experiences as I but that is okay.

My biological father died before my adoption. He was fatally shot. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My biological mother was alone for the first time with two kids. She did not fair well with all that, let’s just say. She was not able to care for me and my sister. She had to leave me with my grandfather, and then I was adopted by my Aunt.

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I never really understood the power of that dark period for my biological mother back then. I figured liked most she was taking the easy route. I figured she was being a sorry mother. I never fully understood how she must have felt back then. Now, I can somewhat see what she must of felt. Years I hated her, yet hate seems like a too strong of word for how I felt about her. I never saw her till I became an adult, and then it was like a lightbulb came on and I felt something I never knew I could, about her. She made me sad, she made me feel pity for her. I realized the first time I saw her, that she was actually a HUMAN…yeah, seems she was not one until I actually saw her.

I so hoped that first time, I would get all my answers answered, but I did not. wanted to hug her and hear about how much she missed me, but I did not hear that. I also thought we would get together and go to her house and she would show me her life and what all she did, but that never ever happened. I was standing before my own biological mother and felt more of a stranger than I did her own flesh and blood. I felt so out-of-place and awkward. Here, I had waited 23 years to see her, to talk to her, to hug her, to know her… They say parting is such sweet sorrow, but that day felt like terrible sorrow. I was happy to finally see her, and I was delighted to hear her voice, smell her perfume, and touch her skin. Sadly, I was wanting this instant connection, this simultaneous combustion. It was not there.

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I was more at home in a hotel lobby than I felt with her. That was okay because I was determined for us to change all that. 

Some times things do not go as we plan…sometimes they never will. We should expect the least from someone and we will never be disappointed.

I was finally face to face with this ICONIC figure in my life. Even though she was not an active participant in my life, that did not matter, she was. I found myself looking her up and down and studying her talk, studying her walk, and mannerisms. I was soaking all that up like a “sponge in water”.

To be continued…

20160913_172253MwsR ❤

 

 

Behind Those Glances/ poem share

 

Behind those glances

And second chances

A person’s heart can feel your thoughts.

Beyond the exterior criticism,

There is still a delicate prism,

To their soul.

Between the right and wrong they’ve done

There is a hurt loved one.

Below their guilt and shame,

Lies pieces of a shattered frame.

A piece that fell this way and that

Some people won’t take time to find where they’re at.

Beside their conscience they keep in touch with day-to-day,

Is their own deep prison they create that keeps them this way.

Because that one person took a second glance,

And gave them a second chance,

They will rise back up

Their heart will start to pump.

By the way you treat them now,

Will dictate their how.

Believe in them once more

Time to be a forgiver of the mistakes they once bore.

Life is an ever-changing thing

Try not to make it sting.

MwsR ❤

Blue…Nighttime Rituals

brown bear leaning on bed headboard
Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

 

Blue had this things or stuff she would do every single night. She would gather up her stuffed animals and her dolls and favorite pillows and would pile them up on her bed.

Blue thought hard to herself one evening as to what she could possibly do to protect herself from the dangers that came with the nighttime around her house. She had no recourse if something wanted to snatch her out from her bed. She was just a little girl but she could make it darn well hard for them to reach her and pull her out of her bed.

So, she tucked herself in the covers that were on her bed. She also strategically formed her stuff like her dolls and stuffed animals around her body and tucked them close as well. As if she was creating a second skin, she would lie really still so as to not create an avalanche of toys falling off of her bed. The only room she left herself was a little area near her face so she could look out for someone coming.

She did not know any other way to guard against a person coming in and taking her away. She after all was a little person and there was so many “monsters” in her house. She just knew if she let her guard down she would surely be taken away.  She always waited till she heard no one else in the house stirring and waited until the lights were all turned out before she felt some sense of relief. She did not really ever sleep well back then. She still can’t.

The largest of her toys were placed around her legs and belly area. She figured there was a good place because her legs and body would be hard to make out. Like it would create some kind of confusion. She placed the fuzziest ones near her face and chest, this was so she could look through all that fuzz, but yet remain unspotted while spying out into the room. Yes, all this made perfect sense to her. She was the one who went on to do this night-time ritual every single night. It seemed to work for the most part.

All except a few times , that is. Those few times would guarantee that she never would let up her ritualistic behavior, and that would be her main reason to come up with even better ways of “evading’ the monsters in the house. Now if she had friends over, she was not worried at all and her toys and dolls had a much-needed break from surrounding her. She felt that with her friend or friends over she was spared,

She also made sure that she never left any skin exposed at night, She would wear something covering her from head to foot and she would make sure of that. That was yet another ritual at night for her. This was to ensure that the monsters would not see or touch her skin. She was afraid if they did, she would be tortured for sure. She always wanted to seem invisible. Invisible was a great wish of hers back in her younger years.

Being invisible would have saved her many difficult circumstances, and kept her from prying eyes and moving hands. If only!

To be continued…

MwsR ❤

 

 

Configure/Poem Share

aged ancient antique architecture
Photo by Mikes Photos on Pexels.com

In our minds, we can configure almost anything

Anything, we have a personal stake in or an interest or experience.

If only our minds could transform into everyday real life existence.

I used to think,” We were what we thought…”

But here in my latter years of  life, I realize more than not,

We are more a part of what we were taught.

It gets difficult in life, let alone the many precursors and stagnates

The test is the thing we most cannot pass

If we had of already learnt it, we would have put it in our past.

I think that people should come with instructions,

Maybe caution signs at best, or a sign that says…

Because the things we don’t see first, are the one’s that take our rest.

They take our peace of mind,

That is when our mind starts to configure things

Not peaceful, joyous, illusions of happiness

But dreadful, awful, foreboding ones, in a big ol mess.

Why is that?

Why do we do that to ourselves?

I wish we had things in boxes, with which to sort through them all,

Then we could take time with each thing we had thought and think some more

And that probably is a thing my own mind has configured, in and by itself,  just like before.

MwsR ❤

 

 

Into The Woods/ poem share

 

ball ball shaped blur color
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It is hard to view the world in “rose-colored glasses”

So many people posers are out in it showing their@$$&$.

I try to be nice

But posing ain’t for me.

I would rather be real, or

Be compassionate for no apparent reason or agenda.

I try to acknowledge within myself the fatality of the sweet words

With which they speak to me.

See you cannot believe them

Those words fade fast.

The sincerity smells of a rotten disposition.

I would rather be the gum they once liked yet swallowed whole,

Than to be the gum they walk upon in disregard or

Lack of interest

You can catch a fly only after he lands

I am like the fly, yet I will never rest.

Often I will watch without being seen

Hear without being talked to.

That is just my nature.

I will get lost in the woods

All the while enjoying being lost.

When someone actually notices me missing

I will not be at peace.

But until my soul rests, I will certainly make forth a great effort indeed.

MwsR ❤

Poem Share

three red hearts hanging with white flowers
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Great Love

Great love is hard to define

You have your own version and I have mine

If ever one could make a dream of theirs come true

They would probably have the greatest love included, wouldn’t you?

Love that is great has to be lasting,

Able to withstand all  circumstances and living

It would be more powerful than any other” heart note”

I would be so much more than any human has ever wrote.

Without this great love, I think all hope would be daunting

I could see people getting exhausted and left longing

Feelings would not be any more powerful than what one could physically see

If there is any hope, there has to a love like that for me.

MwsR ❤

 

 

Picking Hearts/Poem by MwsR

 

photo of red heart shaped paper hanging on rope
Photo by Jess Watters on Pexels.com

Picking Hearts

Ha, we can not pick hearts, how absurd!

But if you could, what would you look for?

I would look for one that doesn’t require anything too perfect

One that won’t give up on you, even though you might not always make sense

A heart that could withstand harsh conditions and changes in someone’s attitude.

I would look for experience, some, in all things that matter

One does not want a heart that cannot withstand pain

A heart that can crumble or die when exposed to the truth,

One that cannot determine between right or wrong

Or one that has been closed for too long.

I would want one that has compassion and love for all things

One that feels what another person is going through

Picking hearts would surely be a hard thing to do

I wonder if it would even be possible

Perhaps in another dimension or time

But not in this world, not the one that has mine.

MwsR ❤