When friends suggested, “Try cocaine!”
Mike’s “No” would reckon choice.
His mom ignored his new campaign;
rebuff became Mike’s voice.
Having seen his mom at crack's expense,
Mike felt all alone and under duress,
stranger to the world of common sense;
he started drinking to excess.
Long gone, his dad had been a souse
and likely binges somewhere yet.
Young Mike had cursed this selfish louse
through years of mixed regret.
In time, mom met her bitter demise
asleep at the wheel from drug abuse.
Shaken, this event opened Mike's eyes
struggling, he echoed “No!” to booze.
Parental hindrance gone, Mike gained
perception, a faith formerly unknown.
He found pardon, patience, peace unfeigned,
Loss ridden-out, his resolve fully grown.
but..."the road to success is always under construction."
quote by Lily Tomlin.
A new campaign for mental health
Is aimed to be reveally.
This New York website asks the question –
So, “How are you really?”
For everyone is not okay
Though some pretend they’re steely.
To get more folks to open up,
There’s now “How are you really?”
By phone or twitter one can join
Since each of us, ideally,
Has lots to say about our lives
When asked, “How are you really?”
Unburdening the truth inside,
Once viewed as “touchy feely,”
May help us thus connect and cope
For none feel normal – really!
Disdain can be so hurtful and baseless.
So hard to renew prestige once tarnished.
Derision, sneering in reply useless,
As disdain on disdain, with brush varnished
Only adorns contempt with scorn garnished.
Better to outflank to prove your true worth
In common ground dug over to unearth
A new campaign where seeds already sown
Can yield reputation and worth rebirth
Freed of need to moan and atone, alone.
It’s a dark evil place
That I had to erase
It all needs to be replace
Making some space
Twenty five years of pain
Is now down the drain
Washed out of my brain
Im starting a new campaign
Leaving on hot Sunday afternoon
Going to drive with the moon
Floating like a balloon
Im listening to a tune
I need to take a holiday
Maybe it’s the fall of grace
I start my race
On my own little pace
I lived in suburbs and in towns
With ups and some downs
Im coming back for my crown
Proof to the world I’m no clown
I'm almost at the end of my holiday
Think what to say.
There is a delay.
I will be holding you one day.
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