Quote for Today

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“Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don’t know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish! And what your potential is!”

― Anne Frank

Thoughtful Mind


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Categories: Writings


Daily Prompt/Broken

At the spur of a moment

In a second or two

You are surrounded and don’t know what to do.

Pain starts to shut down all your capable reasoning

You are compromised without much notice or heckling.

Whirlwinds of effort all thrown to the wind

No one beside you, not even one friend.

Things fall to the wayside

You don’t let yourself swim against the tide.

You are drowning in the “should had’s” and the “what if’s”.

Seems like your spirit has started to drift.

It appears to those that see

That your life is most pleasant as it can be

But on the inside looking out

Your heart is shattered .and scattered about

You wish to get it all together and promising like a token

But alas, you remain BROKEN!

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Categories: Writings


Information about my page

  • I add to my POEMS page ever so often, just more poems that I have to share.
  • I am not good at adding tags yet but I am working on it
  • I have a lot of poems. I have used some in my books for which I try to add a link to, so please check it out.
  • I am constantly trying to make the look and feel of my blog better so I am updating, possibly moving things around, at least till I find the right way that works.
  • I will try to get my blog so that it is easy to navigate, as soon as possible.
  • Thank to the many that take a look at my  blog, special thanks to those that like and comment on my posts. I appreciate that more than you know.

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Categories: Page News



Abstract Art

My daughter is very talented. She is quite good with her hands. Drawing has always been her best talent. So, here recently I have been after her to draw me an abstract heart themed picture. Hearts have always been my favorite shape. They carry sentimental meanings and significance to me. I have always used them in my special signature and my art.

The reason I asked her to make this abstract heart picture was in the hopes of using it in my 4th poetry book. My titles are themed along with heart in their titles.  It could easy look like a series when you look at their names .

She drew me one this evening , which was waiting on me when I arrived home. I noticed the different textures she created  and the different writings behind the pictures . She used tears in the paper that she used to layer with to create a nice texture. I am not sure what the category one would use to place her drawing in but it is a small characteristic of her. She is definitely a unique person and this simplifies that in a talented way .


Picture credit  – RR

Oh how I wish I could draw like her, yet sadly, I can’t . My talent is in expressive writing, poetry, as it is called. I love it and thought I would blog about it. I will definitely use it in my next book.

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Categories: Shares


Things that make you go…


Today is Memorial Day. It is a time when people all over the USA share their sentiments, respects, reverence for those that have been in our armed forces, stood on battle fields, and have given their own lives to insure our constitutional rights and so forth.

I for one, have had family members that have served in the armed forces so I am a respecter of those select individuals. I believe it takes a strong person to lay down his own life for someone they have never even met. I also believe that not every one is cut out to be one of those people.  My Uncle served for our country and he was even stationed over in Germany for a while. Our family never truly knew what it was that he did until his death. He designed bombs and was held to a secrecy of utmost importance. He was always someone I admired but not because of that, for I knew none of that when I was growing up, but rather for his personable self. I always laughed at his jokes and his big smile was captivating.  He was special to me then and since finding out about his sacrifices he personally made to protect our country, well, that makes him even more special.

You see it all the time on our televisions, references to the people who defend our liberties and rights. You hear sometimes of their tragedies as well as their bravery.  The news sometimes tells of the heroic actions of some while paying respects to those whose lives were ended in battle or  certain tragedies. We hear of things from World War 1, and World War 2, and the bravery that followed all those bravery is something that we definitely can relate to the individuals that have served, are serving, and will be. There can be no doubt that those individuals are special.

In honor of todays holiday, I hope that you as well as I, remember the sacrifices these types of individuals give. It is also not only them but their families and all that love them. It is hard to pick up at the spur of any given time and just move, not to mention having the tremendous burden of worry for your loved one that serves our country. Those types of feelings and sacrifices are what helps to make our nation great. They deserve respect and honor.


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Categories: Thoughts


Let Me Take A Look

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There was never  a safe place for me when I was a child, at my home. Things that were out to get me came in the form of a parent.  I was naïve to a fault.  I got into the normal trouble others would at my age and always got a spanking or grounded or some form of punishment. My parents believe in the Biblical saying, “Spare not the rod, spoil not the child”,  Spare not the rod   and I felt every bit of their compliance to adhere to that. I thought sometimes that my parents got joy from punishing me, because they did it so much. I know now though, that was not the case. Spanking kept me, for the most part, on my better behavior rather than not.  The reason I mentioned that was to say that they were strict and it mattered to them what people saw when they looked at our family, such as well-behaved kids, etc.

Anyhow, back to not having a safe place…

My parents worked a regular first shift job. They took me and picked me up from school since I attended a private Christian school. Usually it was my mother in the morning, and my father in the evening. I was never took or picked up by both. It just worked out that way for several reasons.  One was that my mom went the way of my school, early enough she could take me, and my father got off first so he had time to pick me up.

I am grateful for my school, even though it was a strict Baptist one. It was really special to me because I practically knew everyone in the grades below me and most of the students in the grades above mine. It was a close-knit group. Almost everyone knew each other. My graduating class was just 13 students. It was very small, but there was other graduating classes smaller than that. I’d say the time when I attended there was 300 students from grades pre-k to senior.  The teachers acted like they generally cared for us and wanted us to be good people. There was certain students that because of getting in trouble at another school, they were sent to mine.  They were the so-called, “troublemakers”.  I made some of my closest friends from that group, what does that say about me, haha.   My school was a good place for me to be myself and feel safe. Actually, it was the only place I could possibly feel safe.

I say that school was my where I felt  peace, where I felt if I needed help I could get it. My home was not like that. My home had more secrets than a mystery novel. My mom was the really hard-core disciplinary. My father was the one who sat on the sidelines until my mother sequestered his help with disciplining. So, needless to say, I knew if I wanted someone lax I went to my father.  My father and I had an unhealthy relationship.  I believe his knowledge of me being adopted turned him into a different kind of person towards me than a healthy father figure.  He had affection for me and not the kind I wanted. This made my home life not a safe place for me. I felt trapped and scared most of the time, more than loved.

Sometimes we do what we can to cope with our worlds, for me it was journaling. I wrote my emotions in notebook, after notebook and I even color coded my “emotions”, words. I kept my journals in various places around in my bedroom. I thought I had them pretty well hid.  My mother was a very noisy mother and she would without warning go through my room, almost like she was on a mission to seek and destroy. No kidding. I think my mother’s first instinct was to think the worst of me without knowing if it was warranted first.

I remember this one day I walked into my room, and was wanting to write in my journal when I noticed it was not where I put it. I frantically looked for it. I had noticed that my room was moved around some.  My thought went to , “uh ho!” I just knew my mother had it. After looking for my other journals, I could not find them. What I did find was my mother standing in my doorway.  She had a look of anger on her face.  She proceeded to tell me that I needed to stop writing lies in my books about my father and everyone. I was in shock. Without hesitation she started asking me what the different colors of ink was for.  I told her, when I was mad I used red. When I was sad I would use blue. I said that yellow was for feeling sick inside, and pink was for my favorite things, etc. She looked through my journals that she had and started ripping out the pages where she saw something she did not like. I was devastated.

All the stuff I had so meticulously wrote in them was gone. I felt betrayed but mostly hurt. I think I will never get over that feeling of being completely and utterly exposed as well as betrayed. I don’t think my mother ever felt the same about me after reading my journals, in fact, I am sure of it. From that moment on I was a good for nothing liar and in her mind I hated them both. I have not kept a journal since, instead I write poems and quotes and short stories. In doing that, I can again express myself but never again will I , in a journal.

“What I have learnt from that chapter in my life is to find a way to express your pain, your fears, your thoughts if you really need to. Find a person you trust and talk with them, but be careful not everyone wants to hear about the true life you lead. Remember not everyone is your friend. Also, if you are being abused, mistreated, or you are scared of someone or something happening in your life, talk to someone, or seek help. Don’t let anyone keep you silent.” ~MwsR

Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline

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Mws R Writings
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