Skip to main content

Doubting Myself


I may 

view the world

though rose-tinted lenses.


I may

find the good

in every one I meet.


I may

give too many chances,

and stay

when others would leave.


But please...


Don't exploit

my kindness

as weakness,

nor my trustworthiness

as foolishness.


Don't make me

a pawn

in your lies

and deception.


Don't follow

in the footsteps

of every man

I've known before.


Be better.


Show me it's okay

to believe

there is good

in everyone.


Because

I'm starting to

doubt myself.


Thanks for reading, over and out.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sinking Ships

Can somebody please tell me how to fix this sinking ship? Because I'm exhausted. I've given my all to bailing out these frigid waters, fighting against the relentless surge. I waste every breath, every thought, every effort, to confining an endless tide. I cannot stop. But I'll drown out here, cold and alone, if I don't  pause, find the source and fix this broken vessel. So teach me how to plug the gap before it kills me.

Her

She has the kind of face to write poetry about. To spill words like ink on page after page, searching for a way to describe it. And yet, there are never enough words. Their meaning, feels meaningless. I could travel to the furthest reaches of every continent. Dive to the deepest depths of the seven seas, or soar to dizzying heights above the tallest trees. And yet, the world would feel dull, in comparison to her. Even in a thousand lifetimes, hard as I try, I wouldn't ever find a single sight more beautiful than her face, nor a string of words capable of capturing that beauty. Because nothing has ever or will ever be more beautiful to me, than her.

All The Words Are Yours

My favourite poet wrote a book appropriately titled All The Words Are Yours. I used to believe it defined love, at its purest. But recently, I’ve come to accept I was wrong. There is never enough words. They don't do you justice. I search and seek the words powerful enough to define and describe my love. But their meaning is meaningless. All the words are yours; and yet, they're not enough. You make language, limited and insignificant. A failure of linguistics that pales in comparison to the magnificence of you. Give me more words. More letters, more vowels, more meaning and more feeling. So that one day I can find a way to say these words are yours, with love…