Trapped in the expectations of leadership, renders you the punch bag. Everyone spills something, and you’re designated to clean it up. Once you spill something, the steadiness of your command comes into question. Are you truly the leader for them? Can they truly rely on you? As if every success is erased with one failure. You’re always at work while everyone is vacationing; taking just enough time from relaxing just to peek over to assure you’re doing your job. They signed up for your team but lack faith in your methods. You’re continuously excelling, but they’re preparing for the time you’ll break. Why were you elected to power with no electricity? Every last volt is powering you just enough to cast light on them, then they’ll complain when you come up short. Being a leader is accepting you’re always being followed!!!!
You’re losing oxygen, suffocated by self-inflicted injuries. The wool is not over your eyes, it’s around your neck taking what life you have left. Are you eager to live, or is the mountain too steep to climb? You’re at rock bottom, but can dig yourself out. There is hope at the temperature of 180, the degree necessary to kill all your bad habits. One degree off and you’ll fall from the narrow path of redemption. I heard all your excuses and unlimited justifications, yet haven’t seen any proof that can justify nor excuse your behavior. You have been placing your sorrows into sorry to long; selling me empty bags of groceries, we can’t eat, which means there is no way we will survive. I have already forgiven you, but our chapter has become the end of this book. I advise you to walk up, because under those rocks is six feet of endless captivity!!!!
I wandered so far away, I am lost in a place I don’t recognize; funny, all I ever wanted was recognition. Thought I wasn’t getting enough attention, so I went searching for someone I “felt” would be more attentive, and that he was, in the beginning! The way he talks and holds me, breaks me. I remember your warm words and hot body; “I am”, matter of fact, “I am not” without you. I chased a ghost; now I am haunted by a love you once provided. I wandered so far away, I am lost in a place I don’t recognize!!!!
It’s said, “The world is going to hell”; but, “a dark spot” is only noticed in a lit existence. If everything was truly that bad, than only good deeds would be news. We magnify the sin because we can do better as a race. The fear of our world burning shouldn’t be our motivation; our motivation should be the pleasure we’ll get from it being quenched. We are capable of so much, but it’s too easy to dream little. Evil preys on people too lazy to work for good. Good prays for people that evil has cultivated. We are a collection of pieces designed to fit one another, but we’re being scrambled by something below us to prevent us from working for something above us!!!!
So much bitterness; what was once sweet has gone sour. She can’t stand the sight of his no- good cheating ass, but keeps seeing him in every relationship she enters. He can’t walk straight; emotionally crippled by her, running from house to house, scared it would turn into a home. They are both too busy indulging in the pain that no one can introduce pleasure; mauling innocent bystanders because they are driving under the influence of pessimism. Their lives are in quicksand and they are in over their heads. The only thing that will save them from suffocating is forgiveness!!!!
She looked me in my eyes and stole hours from my life. Her plan was to keep me in the dark, while she explored darkness; she claimed it was shame, but it was just a way to have me stand still in case she wanted to find me. Guilt pushed her to confess her motives, pleading she wouldn’t have gone through with “it”; she didn’t see that she already went through with it by deceiving me. She has turned something special into another relationship working towards forgiveness. I told her I couldn’t trust her with my heart, and she proved it the next day. I acknowledge she brought me to “light” on her own, but the time was stolen. She allowed her head to wrap her heart around the idea of something larger than happiness.
I need to be sedated because I am resisting my reality; blinded by every fact, creating fiction. Searching for a refined existence, idealism is my sanctuary. The madness is keeping me mad, but hope continues to be my escape. It’s not fair, but it builds tolerance. The mean streets just needs something to smile about; hustling not to be hustled, one step ahead but two steps behind. This mentality was impregnated in our communities so that we don’t reproduce; yet, I continue to plant seeds in the concrete, believing that flowers will penetrate through the hard surface. I continue to dream that I will wake up in a community that is fully bloomed!!!!