Mr. Hyde

Restless sits my soul
While hours wile away
Awaiting the familiar ghoul
That taunts me by the day
He wears my face and pries
The black recesses of my heart
Despite my fearful cries
He laughs, “It’s just the start.” Continue reading “Mr. Hyde”

Belief

During a crisis, I once asked my mother if she were ever happy
And with shaking voice, she replied she had never been
Since she married my father
My heart plummeted
Would I suffer the same fate?
But it must be a lie
These photographs show a woman, young and content
Brimming with joy and love for the children in her arms
How easily we believe
“We will never be happy again”
When we are sad

The Negative

Where is trouble kept?
Worry and sadness and anger
If I could, I would banish them into nothingness
But why must dislodging it from my heart
Put a shadow of it in yours?
A hydra which grows twice as many heads
As those that are cut and lopped
I heave a rusted sword and can only hope