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Francis Smallwood Poem
My heart repeatedly pushes redemption,
and to strive My mentality will only mention.
My thoughts regain full attention,
as all-embracing Focal Points remain My failure prevention.
My spirits are intact with willful inventions,
and the art of sincerity is My genuine intentions.
My soul is breathing impulsive perfections,
and My actions are chosen with repressed elections.
My eyes prevail with temptation corrections,
as My mental equips My heart with realistic suggestions.
My body moves in courseful directions,
many of the unlightened fork in the roads become heartfelt selections.
My voice forks out respectful affections,
to become narrow minded My mentality subjects neglections.
My rationality is quizzical but toned by the enlightenment of cynical inflections,
and rationalization shimmers My decisions to their pinnacle reflections.
My surroundings receive many of My characteristics injections,
only as My character rebels infections.
My struggle Focal Points have become a way of life under inspections,
and local opposing non compos mentis suffers insurrections.
Focal Points strenghten cidevant directions,
Focus and never give up to objections.
Copyright © Francis Smallwood | Year Posted 2006
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