Built For More

I wrote this poem while I was on my Mini Mission earlier this summer. We (the Sisters and I) were teaching a man named Steve, and he was struggling with feelings of self-worth, and realizing that he was a valuable person who was so amazing, he just had to look harder and deeper to see how much he was worth. It's a poem about realizing that you were put on this earth to be much more than you realize, and knowing that you need to look deeper to find your true potential and your true worth.

Built For More

Sometimes you feel

Like the world's caving in.

Darkness and despair

An endless call from within.

Just remember

That someone out there cares.

And someone will come by

To take your hand in theirs.

To build you up

When you feel low

And help get back

Your wonderful glow.

Believe that you are

built for something more.

Your loving Heavenly Father

has so much for you in store.

You are the best

That you are

Never forget

You're a shining star.

The world is rough

But people want to share,

Your loving Heavenly Father

Is waiting for you There.

Why?

This poem was written after I had been torn apart by someone in my family. I was told that I was a failure and that I would never be the person that they wanted me to be. The only thing I have to say about that, is that people have an image of who they want you to be. You have an image of who you want to be. Follow the path that lets you choose who you want to be! Only you can make the important choices in your life! Don't make others opinions of you make you who YOU really are!

Why?

For all those times

You've yelled at me,

You've never helped

Me to truly see.

The wonderful person

That I can become.

Shining as brightly

As the noon day sun.

You scream and shout

So loud it hurts my ears.

 The pain that stays

Has chased me all these years.

I remember it all.

How you blamed me

For everything bad

And scolded me freely.

The problems dropped 

To my burdened shoulder,

Forcing me to mature,

To become someone older.

There are scars

And there is pain.

But now I use it 

For personal gain.

If I've gained anything,

I have become stronger.

And with this strength

My heart will last longer.

So now and forever

With a smile on my face,

My life will get better.

Everything will fall into place.

But just one question

Still hangs around

And waits for me

 To my mind bound.

Why?

My Shoes

A little back story for this poem. I wrote it one day while I was looking for inspiration to describe my life. I had recently bought a new pair of purple Converse  high tops. Sitting next to them was my pair of basketball shoes that I keep for Church Basketball. I noticed the stark contrast between them. How used one pair was, and how new and literally squeaky clean the other one was. Then I thought about myself, and all my struggles that I have gone through. Thus, this poem was born! Enjoy!

My Shoes

 My shoes tell stories
Stories about me.
About who I am
And who I want to be.

Most of my shoes
Are not quite whole.
Just like myself,
Without a soul.

Some shoes are new,
Like experiences I've had.
Not all of them good,
But not all of them bad.

All of my shoes
Are pretty dirty.
Like my mind
Not so holy.

 I walk in my shoes
Most every day.
They go with me everywhere,
In every way.

Like myself,
They're wearing down.
There is so much
That I have done.

They travel with me
Far and near
And represent
All I hold dear.

My shoes tell my story.
They show what I am like.
Every little detail
Of my life long hike.

Poetry Girl

Just a little bit about me.

I suffer from depression. I have no vent to deal with the emotions that I feel. However, I have found that the written word helps to let out what I am feeling. So I turned to writing poetry, instead of harming myself physically. 

This blog is to not only share my talent, and my love of writing, but to show what the power of words can do to and for a person. 

I hope that somewhere, an answer can be found for you. I hope that with my words, I can turn something bad, into something maybe not better, but something that isn't so rough.

Poetry Girl

A solitary tear

Fell from her eye

And landed on her hand

So cold, so dry.

She blinked it away

Not wanting to show

The depth of her feeling

Of how far she would go.

Pursing her lips

She grabs for a pen

The poetry girl

Is at it again.

She writes with ink

As red as blood.

Like hers it flows

Faster than it should.

Writing with incredible speed

She lets her emotions go.

And doesn’t stop for anything

Doesn't stop the flow.

Once she's done writing, 

She hangs her head.

She's exhausted, drawn,

And ready for bed.