Poem by MwsR( ME)

Knife
By MwsR

An old familiar song playing on the radio
makes me recall things that I had forgotten.
Like a bad odor lets you know something has become rotten.

Stares from recognizable faces
That look sudden, then turn away
Takes me back again into those childhood days.

Words with strong deliverance and demeanor
Those are the ones that I remember the most.
Just like a parasite that infects its host.

Nothing like those pain filled days
Where my last choice was just to leave.
I felt like a prisoner just granted a reprieve.

In one childhood I was made
In those minutes, hours, and days
I found time slowly pays.

If in this life all you are is based on the actions of others,
You will never really have a life.
Don’t let your memories be the knife.

It’s Not Alright/Poem Share

greyscale photography of woman wearing long sleeved top
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

It’s not alright to make another person cry

To make another person want to die

You think you’re powerful but you are weak

One day you’ll lose that “winning streak”

There is so much more , know what’s at stake

Don’t make yourself, their biggest mistake

Making someone regret the day they met you

Is an error at best, against you, it’s true

People aren’t perfect, or don’t you see

No one asks, “Come belittle me.”

Maybe it’s not physical torture but watch what you say

Maybe it projects out from your mouth in a different way

If you can’t leave someone better than they were when you found them at first

Then just leave without such an outburst.

Man was not meant to be treated like that

To be used simply as someone else’s doormat

A simple rule of thumb should be, if you don’t want it back, don’t give it

Life isn’t just simple sometimes, or fair

But don’t hurt another, DON’T YOU DARE!

Things have a way of coming back to you

Don’t believe me, but it is true.

MwsR ❤

*** I changed the original content, that I first wrote.

 

 

Weighing On Your Heart

Stumbling for the most accurate words to describe the feelings

Sometimes, even having a hard time believing

Words fail so many times, to describe what lays upon one’s heart

Guess some days are better than the rest, at least if you start.

Sometimes we don’t give our own selves enough credit

We think somehow we are less than adequate, we think we must ourselves, edit.

If we all kept the things weighing on our hearts hidden and stored inside

Our hearts would break from the weight of what weighs on them, it’d be intensified.

We weren’t made to withstand all the junk thrown our way,

Sometimes we must rest, so that we can again play.

Being but a speck in this world and the trials are fewer than that of the world

But inside one’s self , you  start to feel the intensity, that weighs down from things, being hurled.

If you or I fail to express all our mess, in either a way or a word,

Then the cycle continues and collects all the remnants of the past, it remains unsaid

It will be like a natural disaster waiting till it is displayed

That is how suppressed feelings and things become a weighing stress.

Let go of that force that is running your life,

I will try to apply that suggestion to mine.

The things that prey on our hearts will steal our inner joy.

You can’t play around with a heart, it isn’t a toy.

MwsR ❤