I am hard on myself, for your presence lingers,
The weight of your judgment, my heart still remembers.
In your eyes, I sought approval and grace,
Yet I found only doubt, in my every embrace.
With each flaw magnified, I strive for perfection,
Your expectations, a relentless affliction.
But within this struggle, a truth starts to bloom,
The fault lies not in me, but in your own gloom.
For I am more than your standards allow,
A spirit unyielding, finding strength in the now.
In self-love's embrace, I'll break free from your view,
No longer defined by what you think I should do.
Sometimes for no apparent rhyme or reason
A sort of sinking feeling dampens the mind and heart
Not exactly, but somewhat similar to a nervous breakdown
Everything appears twisted, strangulated, and distorted
Extra show of kindness sometimes turns painful and killing
Sadness soon turns into the hysterical sobs
Turning the victim into a grief-stricken wretch
The face is an index to mind, the principle same for pure and sinner
Oh, in what words shall I describe the comfort
I receive on resting my head on her shoulder
No one else but we shall be hard on ourselves
Future will unmistakably depend on how we amend ourselves
Wholehearted dedication and certainly
Not the astrological predictions will shape the future
The taste of the pudding is in eating
Certainly not in the smell of the sweeteners
He was struck hard on his soft head
And since has been lying in bed:
The hurt spot a bluish red
That racing tears in the eyes bred;
A New Rap Song he had tagged ‘A Fad’,
The Guy singer driving quite mad …
And now three days he’d got bad,
For sure to be never all his life glad,
His hospital bills stating ‘The Sad’,
The swelling already panicking his dad
And him causing to cushion it with pad …
You can’t believe it ‘A Near-Adult Lad’
Through in young deceiving jeans clad.
In a fantastical shimmer of a glimmer of bliss
In a torrid cyber relationship, too good to miss,
In a ring of circumstances, she tested her faith.
In tiny bits, measured out, by her precision lathe.
In retrospect, she realized she was hard on herself.
Devoid of pleasantries, hope ran amok on soul’s shelf.
The improbability of ever fully knowing
Made her reflections just part of her inner glowing.
When you show a softer side
wolves will come around
waiting for an opening.
Once you flash perceived weakness
they'll bore through flimsy barriers
to get to the meat of the soul.
They'll wear them as trophies
while sucking the marrow from your peace bone.
Harden up before it's too late.
Add another layer of metal heart plates.
A thick no go zone.
Pick the wolves off one by one
rinse and repeat..
A wolf is never completely bleached.
Trump Has Been Hard On Us
Can you imagine Trump's fingers eight feet long;
With this, many things surely have to be wrong;
Low will power;
Likes golden shower,
And so much sex we can hear in his each song.
Have you ever heard of an eight foot
hard on before? Goes along with Trump
being hard of hearing.
Jim Horn
I spent my life wondering
What I did that was so wrong
Each time that I felt bad
About what had occurred
Without any of my control
It wasn’t centred about me
But it was just life where
There are ups and downs
We all need to consider this
And not be too hard on ourselves.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Even your imperfections are sweet like the dew on a rose.
March on like fire.
You are not alone.
as i go running through cyber space
i wonder who it is
that is giving me chase
i'm so excited about playing
the game
i wonder who it is that'll
think of my name
it better be phyllis
or could it be jane
which of these poets
remembered my name
while i'm sitting here
i'm going insane
with this special e-mail
running around in my brain
oh no there's a problem
a huge road block
who will i name after
tagged i've got
i don't like to wait
so i'll chose someone who's here
pretty much all of you
have been pretty dear
tag your it!
catie lindsey
lets just hope your
not in a frenzy
it's your turn now
so lets get busy
i picked you cause
your so dizzy
deep in the forest
even natures own fury
can be hard on self
Tribute To Nature
on this night of deep blue darkness
will come the footfalls,
of the one that i seek.
From this gaze of a thousand stars
will come to me,
the one that i love.
And now , the gust of the evening wind sways.
My heart skips a beat.
Whose footfalls? whose shadows?
Alas,my eyes speak for my lips.
Who knocks upon my heart?
Who is come?
Who paints me this emerald?
She` s the song that`s written for me
when no one is around,
when careless whispers etch
the motions of love,
upon the night`s fabric.
Tonight, my eyes await her arrival.
what modesty can prevent us?
what distance can stand between me,
and this that i seek.
this one that i love.
On this night of scented hues,
this moon-lit night that i get to melt into her arms,
this night of longing i never let die,
I shall burn in every pore.
It's hard
to get up some mornings
knowin' ya don't have coffee
and there ain't a damn thing ya can do about it
'cept go get some...
It's hard
to put on your running shoes
at five am when you're outa coffee
and ya know the stores don't open 'til nine
and you're tired...
It's hard
to watch your daughter cut her arms
because the boy that bought her the fifth of vodka
and kissed her last night
is on to the next thing...
It's hard
to explain to your son
that drums and guns are accoutrements
and not replacements for things like heart
and soul and being...
It's hard
to shrink or expand into a mold
whose curves and edges you didn't define
but whose definition is the only one that
allows ya to keep playin'...
It's hard...
when hardness loses its sanctity