Eating a bowl of porridge.
I haven't even brushed my hair.
Drowning in each spoonful,
A little bit missed my mouth,
I wiped it with my sleeve.
Is this the life I've chosen?
Born from a one, I grieve.
I go back to the chair,
it's still warm from where I sat.
I look at the familiar surroundings,
yet I wonder where I'm at.
I can feel myself sinking,
to the bottom of my bowl.
knowing every bit I swallow,
still won't fill this hole.
My bowl is now empty.
I look toward the sink.
I drag myself from the chair,
but I find it hard to think.
I know I must keep moving,
to remind myself of worth.
I look outside the window,
see the beauty of the earth.
I decide to run the tap,
though a wrench was needed.
I just tried a little harder
as I had once preceded.
Once the tap was turned and
I saw the water run.
The dripping of happy times,
had once again begun.
I took myself to the shower,
a task within itself.
I reached for my favourite soap,
from a dusty shelf.
As I began to scrub,
I felt my troubles fade away.
I was proud of what I'd done,
I could face another day.
I turned and looked behind me,
and though I couldn't see you there.
I felt compelled to find you,
I started on my journey,
reliving times gone by.
Looking for the girl,
the one that used to cry.
Not certain when I'd find you,
or in which memory we would meet.
Would it be in a darkened room,
or a doorway of a street.
Still I kept on walking,
though I feared what id find.
I knew that when I did,
I would give you peace of mind.
I passed through many years,
fought the demons that you faced.
Went to familiar haunts,
your steps I now retraced.
Finally I found you,
all wrapped around yourself.
Hid inside the pantry,
underneath the wonky shelf.
I put my arms around you,
and I whispered in your ear,
the answers for the future,
and that the end was near.
I told you to be strong,
and not to forget your worth.
I told you to keep believing,
in the reason of your birth.
I opened up your mouth,
I kissed you with a dream.
The cold air that you breathed,
would be the fire you redeem.
I brushed your tattered hair,
with a comb of hope.
I washed away your fears,
with a bar of soap.
I prepared you for the future,
for the day that you are me,
and to let go of your demons,
so I could be happy.
"Be confident. Too many days are wasted comparing ourselves to others and wishing to be something we aren’t. Everybody has their own strengths and weaknesses, and it is only when you accept everything you are – and aren’t – that you will truly succeed"
– Unknown