Mental Health

My Labyrinth...
I wish you could see the demons in my mind; The labyrinth that I run through to try and outrun them; They torture me day in and day out;
By Lindsey Altom2 years ago in Poets
Restored, Renewed And Unfettered
* I paint straight into the wind changing the image in my reflection I've shut myself down again because my heart needed protection
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
Let's Start A War
* My mind erodes like the paint Faded out by the sun Showing no restraint When I descend in emotions I push hard the envelope
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
We Need To
Little and often! A concert pianist plays so well because he or she practiced every single day of their lives, and still practices.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff2 years ago in Poets
THE DREARY RAIN!
The rain- a symbol of joy and happiness, How come today became a cause of loneliness? Probably the rain reminded her of someone,
By Aashima Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Humanity
“The world is full of good people. If you can’t find one, be one” Believe in yourself and others. Believe in Life Itself.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff2 years ago in Poets
We Just Need
“Be the reason someone smiles. Be the reason someone feels loved and believes in the goodness in people” This comes down to
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff2 years ago in Poets
It Is
This is so true! We are often so busy looking after everyone else that we forget to help ourselves. And we are just as Important
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff2 years ago in Poets
Keep Looking Forward
“Surround yourself with people who talk about visions and ideas, not other people” It is so Important to allow our minds
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff2 years ago in Poets
I do not believe in soulmates
The notion of being swooned into a whirlwind of romance is a tale long told, Admonishing the beauty of efforts in oozing passion is a narrative untold.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
God will wreck your plans if your plans wreck you
The most benevolent outrage ever silenced were the gallant echoes of the mind. In the dreariest of tremors, the tiniest fragment of hope prevails,
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Who waved from my mother's flat?
Yesterday, I had an inexplicable experience during my visit to my mom's home in Belgium that has left me baffled. Every few months, I travel from Paris to see her, keeping up a tradition we've had for 17 years - she waves goodbye to me from her third floor window as I walk to the bus stop down the path outside her apartment building.
By spooky session2 years ago in Poets