A group of writers in Chichester coming together once a month for inspiration, collaboration and sensation

I don’t have to listen to what it says

I battle my own demons
they tell me I’m wrong
but when I pick up
a sign or a flag or a pen
that’s when I feel strong
and I’m trying to figure out
how to feel that way all the time
but haven’t yet worked out
how to connect the dots

of that line
and maybe if I explain this to you
everything will be fine
I can only hope and pray
I’m finding it hard
not to listen to the voice in my head
I guess it’s gotten milder
once it said I’d be better off dead
and now I’m skeptical of all the
pessimism it portrays
I know the truth is my choice
I don’t have to listen to what it says
I feel like I’m getting stronger in
dealing with it
but still have those bad days
where like the greek hero
I’m lost confused in it’s maze
running from the minotaur
fighting my own Trojans
besieging me with malaise.
So forgive me my friends and lovers
for neediness ,for my lack of belief
that you want me, need me
that causes me so much grief
offer me kind words,understanding
wisdom for relief
don’t feed me to the fishes or keelhaul me on the reef.
I have an alba-tross all of my own
so don’t come down on me like a ton of bricks
that’ll only leave me looking over my shoulder
for the banshee’s omnious moan.
If I’m wailing, flailing, scared of failing
falling, sympathy scrawling,
Cerberus’ of low self esteem mauling
pick me up
dust me off
hug me
tell me it’ll be okay
mindful of the list ‘things not to say’
and send me on my way
Fingers crossed things will be great
if not, hang out by the gate.




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This entry was posted on September 26, 2013 by in Poetry and tagged , .
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