Black Poetry : Troubles of Mind

WindWalker

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Oct 8, 2001
182
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Troubles of Mind

I took a walk I’d hoped would be pleasant
on a cold, wet and windy day
and how I wished the sun had shone;
how I wished for a soft, warm breeze
to warm my face and hands today.

My troubles hound me like a cold wind;
like a driving November rain.
They penetrate my clothes;
keep my heart in their icy grip;
keep me from the love I seek to share;
they numb my hands: and I cannot touch.

There is a way out of this;
a place beyond these troubles of mind;
where bitterness is washed away
as rain washes down a street.
There is a way to see;
a way to skirt potholes and cracks
on the uneven road of life;
a way to not stumble, nor to fall;
a way, a sure way, a final way
to replace fear with love.

How? Consciously choosing
to transform the fear-filled mind.
 

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