My Honest Poem
I trip up when I see that people are disengaging
I get bored easily especially when the text convos get dry
I am guilty of not loving myself enough to be intentional in making the time to self-reflect
I am complacent in some areas but am too scared to admit it
I have lost zeal and the thing is I don’t know why - but I want it back…or do I?
I believe I am capable but reality right now tells a different story
I compare my relationships in quantity and quality way too much to others
I avoid at times because the present is sometimes to hard to drink and swallow
I don’t feel like I have something true and steady with God
I am afraid of losing all or any of what is precious to me
I feel like I should be more busy
I have dreams that want to see the day of light and I believe some I’ve forgotten
I wonder how people see me
I wonder why I can’t remember and recall well
I wonder why I take life for granted
I wonder why I am not doing anything, well I am - but I mean more
I fear that I won’t be an engineer
I hate not feeling smart enough
I am reciting words to myself that aren’t resonating and if they are they don’t have long term impact
I have a hard time reading people and always assume the worst
I imagine that if I were a full time poet I would seek the snaps just like how now I seek approval
I am guilty, I know, I am working on it…or am I just saying I am
I want things to change but can only fancy the vision of what I could be and how it feels so far away
I heard that its going to be a long road but I think I’m worth it to keep going
I’d like to say more about myself that is good & true but there are limits that I haven’t gotten past yet
I am a song the musician is doubtful to sing in front of her audience, a cry that is way too hard to ignore, and a shovel that is getting tired of digging
I am tired of digging
I am real tired of digging
I have carved out resemblances of gold - but not gold itself
Praying to God for the strength to keep going and the power to believe that I will find it
When is enough enough?
When can I start over?
Is it too late?
Will I be more than my young self expected?
These broken pieces need more than just glue
I think they need restoration and redemption.
These white bones need a bigger reason to keep me up.
I think they need one more ounce of hope that I won’t let them down
They say honesty is a good antidote.
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But I just think its the first step in finding your way back home.
I'm trying to find my way back home
And if we bump into eachother along the road, I ask that you be honest with me and point me in the right direction.