Boxed

box2I have come to
This place by choice
Of someone else
Why would they
Choose this for me
Bore a hole
And shove me in
Take my wings
Cut ties to my dreams
Turn of all light
And fill the box with
Screams
Soon I became
So close to nothing
That I had almost
Lost myself completely
Until I realized
They left behind
One thing
That lies very deep
Within me
I even had a difficult
Time finding it
But luckily
It was also
Looking for me
This little light
Of thought
Was first just a flicker
Then with every bit
Of hope I could feed it
It grew
Into a flame
So large
I could no longer
Contain it
It ended up
Filling the box
Calming the screams
And helped build up
The once destroyed dreams
So see
A new world
A different reality
Is just one positive
Thought away
So link a few
Together
And you’ll soon have
Your freedom
Forever

What light really is

Light doesn’t come from the sun
It emanates from small little lightflies
See
They meet the sun half way
He’s tired you know
There are zillions of them
They swallow the light and flutter down to the flowers,
The trees and the people
Sometimes they rest on clouds
And on rooftops
And often atop perfect mushrooms
And when they tire
And their light begins to fade
They flutter up to drink of more
They do this for them
And for us
All day
And when the sun
Turns his face
The lightflies
Rest their wings and settle in to sleep
In the spaces between our dreams, the stars and goodnight kisses
Until we meet them
Tomorrow

purplefairies2

I love to write

mrdarcy

I don’t really mind

If I don’t finish first

And its no big deal

If my form is the worst

It’s really OK

If you’re better than me

Because I think my way

Is the right way to be

Writing helps me make sense of being me. I like being me, but it hasn’t always been that way. I had problems with my looks, making up lies about reality, buying too many things, selling too many things, saying stupid things (I am a little ADD), and thinking way too many things. I am good now, never perfect, but really happy.