Writing poems is more than a pastime
It's a way of clearing my head
Sometimes for extinguishing angst
Sometimes killing boredom dead
Sometimes I get taken up by artistry
There's a lot of wonder in there
Sometimes I write to my Creator
There's a calmness I can't explain
Lately poems are slowing down
I'm writing little stories
about moments in my life
that I could never shake off me
You might know the kind I mean
When you were put on the spot
Maybe humiliated by an employer
Maybe betrayed by a wife
Maybe a group acted against you
Maybe a cop treated you mean
Maybe your parents never said they loved you
Maybe your brother knocked you out
Maybe you spent your young years
not giving 100%
because you were afraid you knew you were brilliant
and you didn't want to stick out
That's a kind of depression, I think
Keeping your head down to contain your anger
Well, these days I'm removing that
one story at a time! I will examine...
Then I'll put them all together
under the subject of "mindful Living"
If i write a book, I'll have a pseudonym
The only way to truth, my man
Rising to objective thinking yields
a freedom from chains of pain
The type you create yourself
from dwelling on unresolved strains
I sense after the understanding comes
compassion will follow
but there must be ongoing work afterwards
so that there's no regressing
It's a nasty journey
Old memories are crushing disasters
But I experience momentary releases in between
that are quite joyful
Eventually I do expect
my life with have more meaning
I'll likely accept myself more
Consciousness will be more inviting
This was a good poem for me
The ending is more clear
The journey is not an insurmountable mountain
I'm nearer that I think
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