Many are the voices that echo through my mind,
From the beginning to the end and then rewind.
I hear them all again when I let myself stop and think.
Whenever all the others fail, his pulls me from the brink.
The times when life unbearable seems to be,
Memories of my life with him and how much he means to me.
Sometimes I wonder why I've been blessed with you.
Is it because of the hand that life has dealt, or something it has yet to do?
-
Author:
SLR (
Offline) - Published: June 20th, 2018 14:13
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this for my oldest son. I see a lot of myself in him, good and bad. It worries me. There have been times in my life when I was dying inside and couldn't go on. Obviously those attempts failed. Over the past several years I finally feel like I have reason to go on. So I say to you, fight your demons with everything you are. It will get better. It may take a long time, mine took years. But it did get better. I'm stronger now, and actually happy most of the time, which I never thought I could/would be. I'm not saying that my life was worse than whatever you've been through, but I've been through more than almost anyone I've ever met. It's easy to lose hope. I know because I've been there more times than I'm willing to talk about. So again I say, Fight on!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 33
Offline)
Comments4
Good heart felt piece and great advise as well. ww
Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. And took the time to read my long comment! 🙂
I can tell this is really from the bottom of your heart, and I think I understand the message in the story. I really loved it, great job!
Thank you so much! and I'm so glad that you enjoyed it.
Yw
Beautiful write from the heart.
Thank you. I'm glad you could feel how much I meant every word.
That hand of life has dealt you the wisdom to guide your son towards the right path, the path that he will eventually chose. Good write.
I hope so. I'm trying to help him make better choices and make sure he knows that he can always come to me. I don't want him feeling that hopeless, helpless, rage and frustration that I grew up with.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.