Tireito

The river of time flows never again to repeat itself
Old man knows this and he tries to hold on to everything dear before time changes everything
He knows time is the ultimate healer and trusts upon it to change situations

The mighty hands of time are ticking away in an endless beat
With each tick life changes, age changes and the end draws nigh
Old man knows that his breath is running out with each tick and the best he can do is live in the moment

The hands of time will still tick today, tomorrow and for all eternity
It cannot be controlled neither can it be stopped
The hands of time will still tick whether you’re happy or still allow the past to haunt you

Time is the ultimate healer only if you trust upon it to heal you
Only if you let your soul swim in peace through the river of time
Only if you allow it to numb you from the painful stings of your past

Patience go hand in hand with time and so if we’re patient with time to change our situations, then we’re bound to see the change and actually live it
If we’re so inclined to finding peace and happiness then with time they will come knocking on our doors
Time is the one determinant of fate and destiny
It is a powerful force and is not respective of age or class
With time some things get better while others go from bad to worse
Trying to understand it is like trying to understand life itself 🌼
©blackgirlpoetry

I know of a great doctor
A surgeon that mends broken hearts and restores hopes
A doctor with a magic touch so powerful that even the strongest storms falls silent at his touch I know of a great doctor
His name is poetry
He’s the best doctor I’ve met in my entire life
I say he’s a great doctor because I’ve been his patient for a while now
I know it sounds weird to say that poetry is a doctor but what do I call something that drives out my pain and fears and injects a dose of hope and sometimes happiness?Poetry gives me a certain high that only few patients like me can relate
Poetry has a way of unearthing what’s buried deep in my arm, allows it to travel down my arm and falls silently on paper
Poetry is the only thing that literally takes me to the world of fantasyPoetry to me is therapy
When I sit to write the whole of me falls silent and work in symphony to pen down experiences mostly not mine
So therapeutic that after inking my book serenity washes over my soulIf my soul reeks of happiness then poetry is responsible
Yes, I know sometimes life gets thorny but poetry has a way of watering my soul so it blooms despite the thorns
Poetry heals
When I tell you poetry is a doctor,trust me
©blackgirlpoetry

Sometimes we all need a little push to get through tough times, a little push that could place us to another better level in life. We sometimes want to master the art of endurance so that when our lives hits its lowest and storms come crashing at us like a wrecking ball, we’ll be able to endure.
Sometimes we all crave that happiness finds us and before it comes knocking on our doors, we want it to give us a sign so that we’re hopeful.
Some days desire that silence place it’s subtle hands on our souls so that we take in what’s going on quietly
On other days when we feel we can’t fight anymore and are about to give up, we hope that something or someone sets our souls on fire so that our spirits come to life once more and our energies rejuvenated.
Sometimes we just want to feel silence around us, step barefoot on misty grasses, inhale the morning breeze or even get lost in fantasy
Sometimes when we are breaking and our souls tired, we crave to connect to the universe, feel it’s music and get lost in the beauty of nature
On other days we die for peace to find us and let it be our own version of the elixir of life
On other days we want to feel our heart beat, beat by beat as it connects with our being
Be part of the symphony in the universe 🌸
©blackgirlpoetry

What if I told you
I’m not who you think I am
That the real me is safely hidden
Well hidden away from the prying eyes of society
What if I told you that I’m two sided like a penny
Would you still love me?

What if I told you
I’m tired of this act
I’m tired of this pressure
The real me is caged but threatening to break free
What if I told you that I want society to see the true me and not what they made me be
Would you still love me?

What if I told you
Putting on a facade is what I’m perfect at
That I’ve perfected the art that the inner me is almost dead
If I told you that I’m scared of prejudice and acting in a way society wants me to is the only escape from prejudice
Would you still love me?

What if I told you
Deep down I want to tint my hair blue
Get a huge tattoo on my back
Paint my lips black
Drink my self crazy and forget Society’s whack
Would you still love me to the moon and back?

What if I told you
That I’m dying to be me
That I want to face my fears
And give the world the real me
That I want to drop this act and be me
But procrastination still has a tight grip on me
Would you still love me?

What if I told you all these
Would you love me
Would you support me
Or will you just walk away
And join the bandwagon of society’s judges
©blackgirlpoetry

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton