I was never able
to sing a song,
I would always
input words
that didn’t belong.
And while I thought
I might captivate,
It always ended in failure,
for my voice wasn’t great.
Realising I would never
be able to confess
I decided to try
another avenue to impress.
I picked up a pen
and let it lead me astray,
To rewrite me
memories of yesterday.
Back to a time
when I was young and naïve,
a web of lies
I could easily weave.
My personal history
looks a lot brighter
now that I am
my own scriptwriter.

It’s called healing… self healing anyway. The wounds of your soul accumulated from both ancient collective and contemporary personal history, to be able to move forward in your present self to a more beautiful and shining future…
I dunno… guild your self in the armour of your ancestors, learn the lessons of family karma, and attempt to prevent inflicting those wounds upon your future generations.
Maybe. Something like that. I think.
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Loved your will power , good luck !
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One of my favorites so far.
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Thanks
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Could rewriting your memories on paper maybe help to rewrite the memories in your mind?
Maybe a little.
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Isn’t it wonderful that we each get to write our own life’s scripts? Mine will always have happy endings!
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WOW! Very nicely done!
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Thanks.
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Your poems are always awesome. 💖
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Thanks very much.
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Self rejuvenating and inspiring self again and not letting yourself break down again by what you or others feel.
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