There’s gonna be a storm today

There’s gonna be a storm today,
I know I feel it’s curse,
I’m ready for the raging winds,
And the waterworks to burst.

The awful itching in my scalp,
The headiness that bears down,
There’s gonna be a storm today,
I hope that I don’t drown.

Under the weight of awful clouds,
That follow my every move,
That haunt my waking hours,
And play havoc with my mood.

There’s gonna be a storm,
It will rage inside of me,
But no one else will suffer,
I’ll contain it, just you see.

The sun will shine around me,
Whilst inside the thunder rolls,
And every lighting strike,
Will likely take its toll.

There’s gonna be storm,
But it will soon be gone,
Then life will start again,
And I’ll be moving on.


Memories lie

My memories have such power,
Over the choices that I make,
They tell me when I’m wrong,
How to avoid another mistake.

They mess around inside my head,
Fill me with such false witness,
Lies and exaggerations,
They make me feel so witless.

I’ll not fall down to obscurity,
Be swallowed with self doubt,
My memories are from the past,
I need to weed them out.

I’ll not fail if I choose to live,
My life in the here and now,
I can make new memories,
Ones that show me how.

My memories are powerful,
I’ll build ones of positivity,
My future will be easier,
The way I know its meant to be.

Through life’s fog

Can you see yourself,
You know you’re there,
You can feel yourself,
Don’t have to stare.

Can you see yourself,
Through all the fog,
Through life’s dilemma’s,
Through the dialogue.

Of life’s confusion,
Of the diagrams,
The busy streets,
And the histograms.

Can you see yourself,
Can you feel the breeze,
Can you feel the warmth,
And move with ease.

Don’t let them,
Put you in a box,
Clear the way,
Shake off the blocks.

Remove the blinkers,
From your eyes,
Clear the fog,
You’ll be surprised.

Can you find yourself,
Outside the mist,
You’ll find that you’ve,
Been sorely missed.

What mind is there

What mind is there,
That cannot fail,
What thoughts there are,
That do prevail.

Deep memories,
Of days gone by,
I sit and ponder,
And wonder why.

What mind is there,
That keeps me sane,
Working through,
This aweful pain.

Deep memories,
Or a tortured child,
Of slights and ills,
Childhood defiled.

Now time has passed,
The child has grown,
She’s cared for,
In her brand new home.

What mind is there,
That time can’t heal,
That cures the past,
And calms the ill.


There is a place out there, it’s empty, it has no name tag,
There is gap within the universe, waiting to be used.
It’s got a reason to be empty, it has a purpose to fulfil.
There is a place out there, it’s waiting just for me.
There is a niche where I belong, a place that I feel safe,
It’s a monumental moment, a trophy to be won,
A praise that I deserve, a recognition of my work,
There is a place out there, it’s empty, waiting to be filled,
It’s waiting patiently, waiting for me to be revealed.

You’re not the story you write

A story once told,
Is written in mind,
Whether it be frightening,
Or the hero be kind.

Your story is told,
To the World you live in,
It tells all your secrets,
And exposes your sin.

Just remember the truth,
It’s easy to say,
The sad story you tell,
Doesn’t have to end that way.

You are not the story,
That runs through your life,
You are not the problem,
The trouble or strife.

Just change your story,
Take a new road,
Be brave and rewrite it,
It’s your story be bold.

Bullying the child

The worst bully of them all,
As it is plain to see,
The one who hurts the most,
Turns out to be me.

I beat myself up daily,
I never miss a trick,
To make myself feel miserable,
I make myself feel sick,

I’m mad and inconsolable,
Insanely uncontrollable,
Talking to myself,
It really is unbearable.

I need to take some time,
To understand my situation,
To reconcile my broken halves,
And quell this inner friction.

I have to be more gentle,
I have to care for and be kind,
To bring about the harmony,
That is so hard to find.

No more bullying or misery,
I have to be more mild,
I have to love and hold her tight,
My inner loving child,