My heart was once whole
My mind is always a tyrant
My soul is my friend, my shadow
***
Unfounded — the call
Unheard — the echo
Unwanted — shame befalls me
***
I trust — no one
I believe — in my own way
I think — too much!
***
Tick Tock
Goes the tyranny I hold
Chiming intervals begin a story untold
***
Tick Tock
My mind — the tyrant clock
Tells the hour — a time only my soul can know
Poignant and telling. Time is a tyrant that never stops.
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Thank you, my friend!
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Brilliantly penned ❣️
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Thank you, my friend!
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You are most welcome 🥰
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Your fears and anxieties aside, you are a noteworthy artist. Is it possible to suggest; many of the great artists in this life suffered the pains of fear and anxiety? Did they find measures of relief in their gift of creativity? I can only say with certainty, your gift is a balm of healing. Blessings, Peter
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An artist. That is the first time I have ever been called an artist. Just gonna let that sink in. Mmmmm…..thank you! I do not feel worthy of the title. Not yet, at least.
You are absolutely correct. Some argue that chaos, pain, and suffering are fuel to a writer’s fire. Of course, history does confirm such things. Many artists of all kinds faced various demons, a few can turn those demons into something constructive and creative. I appreciate the compliment of my work being a gift and a balm of healing. This puts a BIG smile on my face and makes my heart cheerful! Thank you, Peter. XOXO, Eleanor
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You are enough.
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