A Poem

(not a new one)

The Verge
Tears welling in trembling eyes
Escaped Water
Cuts through the mask
As it trickles down

Like fragile porcelain

it can break

Breakable doll

Manhandled to fate

Beautiful glossy hair

Brushed so often

It crimps til rotten

Reality of dead cells

is the true nature of myself?

Pure porcelain gleam and sheen

Hard it seems

and Hard to feel

Hollow knocks

at emptiness inside

If it falls, there

goes all pride

Beautiful, precious

That I am?

I seem

I show

Fragile, Empty

How can I know.

What to say What to say..

Hello Everyone
Who is reading this

Well I haven't written in a long time in this blog, but there is a reason for this. You see, this blog was supposed to be about new beginnings and fresh ideas. But sometimes I really do feel like I replapse into old ways of thinking and being. No one is perfect I suppose. But what can I say now that I realise the world is not a happy little place with my little ponies :)

I try to do what I can. To live as a good a life as I can. And I try not to disappoint. But I'm afraid more of disappointing my guardian angels and spirits more so than actual people? No it's the same if not worse! Life seems to get in the way of that eternal bliss and joy and peace that we all seek. Life is here. Life happens. Now what do we do about it? That's the ultimate question though isn't it? What do we do now that we've been born and given a chance on earth?