Anxiety Narrative Poems

Way of the Spirit

There's days, my time grows older to darkness 
My breath as if my last I give for peace 
Patience, long waited death; time counting the

Hourglass

Hourglass

The sun has become dimmed 
with each step
the pathways seem endless 
He is dazed
even as his mind is fazed
He loafs 
as a floating leaf
romancing the

Being In The Moment

**Being in the Moment**

My mother believed in prayers more than my father did. My father preferred to tackle his problems with a flask of white

I start this year with something that was not mine

My Thursday Morning Prayer

The words have been the poem, 
and a good poem should fill you 
It can offer consolation and comfort in your time

Hearts of Spring

Hearts of spring come and tell me where you have been, your faces are moist and pale, and life is tough over there, come and

the odd narrative

The Odd Narrative
Steamed up the window, my finger I paint a landscape,
Mountain, forest, and lake; the peak cries into
the lake becomes a vast ocean,
where trees

Large Heads

Large heads
The Modern Slavery Crisis Must Be Addressed.
Calling on all poets for an urgent meet-up 
The Pied Piper has surfaced again in this world. 
On

Race Track Thinking

Race Track Thinking 

I didn't choose an ADHD brain. At times a random whispered thought, barely connected, pops in uninvited, insistent to be acknowledged and

I am not Bob the Builder

Located in Accra, near the Gulf of Guinea,
In the town of Ashaiman Ghana, 
There is an aspiration within me to become his source of hope.
Two

Rubicon Crossing

Silence the voice in my mind

Within every individual's mind resides a poem, 
casting doubt on the assertion that each person is an island. 
An internal dialogue permeates,
 encompassing both positive

MY BEAUTIFUL LIFE OF LIES

I was living with my family,
And was a happy child.
My Father helped me grew up,
To live a struggling life...

Messy hairs with darks
around my faces,
Everyday I

When the Poem Became Tears

When the poem became tears 
As the ink drips, 
I have become an emotional basket case.
My keyboard squeals, as the businessman's anxiety climbs
At the sound

My Village - Monsoon Flood

The skies now dark with swollen grief,
Rain lashes roofs beyond belief.
The monsoon comes not soft, but roaring seas,
It spares no home and trees, nor man,

Nursing Home Day Room Stories

Lillian’s Echo

Lillian sat in the dayroom’s dim embrace—a survivor etched in time. The air clung to stories, whispered secrets, and the lingering scent of suffering.