The fatal catch

So the world so willingly offers help to a broken man

Positivity offered in abundant wealth

But the fatal catch is not to be overlooked

The only one to fix the damage and find new hope

Is the damaged self now suffering

And who has given up on hope

But if it keeps the world happy…

Let them believe thier attempts can have an effect

As the broken man quietly marks up his wrists!

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How deserts cry

Dry tears

Hollow eyes

Silent cries

Subtle sighs

The numbing signs

That your humanity

Is merely everyday lies

The Impact

There is a propietial moment in a life when something happens, an impact of such note it creates a hole

That impact causes fractures over time as resulting structural failures branch out as cracks which further weaken the whole

Pieces come loose and drift, some get lost as others lose thier value when detached from other elements that gave them meaning and worth

You are broken

And you ask; What if I could find the impact, fix it and maybe repair some of the damage?

And then you ask; Would you ever be what you once where, or is the thing you have become now quite simply ‘you’? Can you the fixed?

I ask you; What would you choose?

I Don’t Know?

The myriad of open hands, offering suggestions and readily staring opportunities making noisy fuss wherever you look, but what?

‘Easy’ is a word we all rally around and with energetic rush clamour to take advantage of but those wisely walking folks, accomplished and with all the worlds rewards at their fingertips, speak with coolly toned advise about ‘hard work wins returns’

But looking upon the mountainous scale of the hill, flimsy boots with their dampening holes passing on the moisture to your socks, that ‘hard work’ is not so easy a contemplation

So you find yourself stuck at; I don’t know?

Has anyone got a good pair of hiking boots?!

A comment gone a wander

Waters rose, tides got higher
He wasn’t her prince, but an inferior lover
Her wrath was one with the ocean, another claimed by the water
By the betrayal of a prince, many fell to her unearthly power

He stood eternal, she tried and made much a storm to end him
He took her pain and took it more, her tears the thunder
She made the man as her prince, a wedding under oceans
The souls lost to her vengeance, free to sail forever

Written in response to a superior poem I caught on another blog, if that blogger wants to make themselves known in the comments I won’t object