Perspective

It is strange
How with so few
Different variations,
The whole Earth
Can shift around
And face you from
Yet one more direction.

As, when the sun is on your skin
You remember the cold as only thought
As if it had never really happened in any reality
But your own.

I have taken the same walk
– Step for step –
Three months apart,
And the only similarity was me.
And even I was only just.

It is a journey we are on; these lives of ours,
Each step along the paved and wild ways
Are more than enough proof
For any man, woman
Or child (who is older than their years).

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Doubt

Hiding behind a velvet skinned disguise

A mole mines,

Beneath your hopes and dreams.

 

He burrows,

Softly, with large pink hands

And no eyes to see

The damage he has done.

Your insecurities have no choice but to crumble,

And leave your psyche wriggling.

 

He only stops to sniff when he finds your core:

Your rock,

And who you really are.

It is at this point you must use it,

Your weapon,

You must rise, strongly.

Your rock,

Your core

Has the power to banish this doubt

This depression

And it must, it will.

 

The doubt has no chance but to scurry away.

It will come back, but only as a weaker being

Whereas you’ll be twice as strong.