As the Free Bird Flies

As the free bird flies

To the sun in the sky,

So my heart longs to be free.

To soar through the clouds,

As the eagle’s cry sounds –

To roam over hill and vale –

To follow no predestined trail.

I’d go through the sea-mist

And survive it, just,

To see myself start over again.

As I’d try and I’d try

To lift myself high,

I’d just be pulled back down,

To nurse my broken crown.

To raise myself up

Above all of this

Is incredibly hard by myself.

So here I must try

To live and to die,

But we’ll all meet again in the end.

Strong and Stable

“Strong and Stable” – that’s what she said.

Strong and stable, a funny way of thinking about it.

I could use some strength and

stability in my

head.

My mind has a ten

dency to wander. I don’t always stay on topic, I get distracted and carry on for far too long without taking

a breath.

My sleeping patterns are just a mess.

It is intriguing to note the similarities between a goldfish and

Boris Johnson, a man who has a delightful tendency to speak utter

Rhubarb, a food I’m not keen on myself. Although it does make wonderful

crumble. Much like our economy would under a leader like Theresa.

You see I have a way of returning to the topic. Unlike some, I may find my way back.

Again,

and again,

and again.

Because this is important. This is when we decide whether to take a stand, or whether to shrug responsibility

like a child caught enabling some degradation of society

by a friend or acquaintance who tells them

not to worry because they’ll take the blame.

Maybe it’s time to

do

something.

Anything.

 

Joy and Sadness

When joy and sadness intertwine,

A pain eternal, a love divine.

The memory of those you loved

And the thought of them looking from above.

This disappointment that you feel,

Knowing that you can never reveal

To them, once more, how much they meant,

How strongly on them you often leant.

What you wouldn’t give for one last touch, a hug maybe,

A hand to hold, a smile to see.

Just once more,

And then again,

And again,

Just to try and reverse the pain.

Life in the Mist

The mist rolls down from the mountains,
Clouding the eyes of the deer laid around,
Leaving the sky committed to the darkness.
Something lurks here, it waits to be found
By someone who is not you.
Some call it a black dog that preys on your mind.
Whatever you call it, it tries to hide in the cracks, the crevices, the caves
On the mountainside until the mist descends.
And when that time comes
You know.

You know that just getting up feels like climbing a mountain.
Just being awake is enough to make you question why you exist.
You feel that your life has become a fountain of shit
Causing you to gag in the stench of your failings.
You drown in the everyday and revel in the chance to sleep
For just five more minutes.
You’re fat, you’re ugly, you’re lazy, you’re useless.
Everyone hates you.
Everyone is looking at you.

And eventually, that black dog has wrapped itself around your body.
It begins to consume you.
And then,
Then,
Then someone sees your burden, it cannot hide in its cave any longer.
The dog retreats for now, leaving behind marks of tooth and claw;
A constant reminder that you have come through your struggle and survived.
At least for now.

Would you consider this salvation?