Too many times I try to talk
Friends listen and seem to balk
They laugh at words that make me cry
Should my tears be running dry?
I need your help I plead, I scream
My friends assemble a simple team
They take my words and pull them out
Tossing them all about
Unimportant rhymes they say
I begin to run away
I can’t find a place to go
No one understands what I don’t know
I look for help at a corner store
A woman begins to implore
She asks me why I’m on the run
I say I’m escaping all that I’ve done
This woman, which I do not know
She sits me down, says do not go
Tell me all your troubles, dear
I want to help you with your fear
Stunned, I start to gasp for air
I shout my problems everywhere
Water falls from my eyes
The woman slowly begins to rise
She holds my hand and takes me in
She tells me it’s time to begin
A journey to repair my heart
Something like a new start
A stranger whose name I never caught
Gave me more than I ever thought
That's what happens when you
That's what happens when you are 'in flow' with the universe!! Don't let go!! Beautiful!
~peace~
........
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
And won't you be ever
And won't you be ever thankful to that stranger, what luck you found her.
the friends, they don't understand it. you're the rare one. you're the oyster that contains the precious pearl, and they are the sand you sit upon.
Thank You
Thank you so much. This is an idea I've struggled with for my entire life. That I feel more connected to a passer-by than friends I've known for years. It's terrifyingly beautiful.
Hey...a good rule of
Hey...a good rule of thumb.."if it ain't broke, don't fix it". There is no such thing as 'textbook case of individuality'. ~peace and good luck always~
...............
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "