Our forward motion is only
        Contradicted by the backward
Thoughts that trip us over on the
Journey of what should be strides.


But we must learn to face the
      Deductions that minus every
Second motion. Limiting us to normality.

                      Where born to be more.

So never let ourselves be
         Testament to others regression.
  We will always step beyond the safety
          of ourselves and fall like petals.

When the weather's too fine
we whine
When the weather's bad
we're mad
When is too dry
we cry
When is too wet
we fret
In the hail
we wall
If it changes
we complain
If it doesn't
we go insane
We don't like
a lightning strike
Hearing thunder
make us wonder
what we've done
In the sleet
we crave some heat
and when it cools down
we frown
When it heats up
we've had enough
In the fog
we curl up with the dog
When it's too breezy
we're sneezy
Come the frost
we're lost
When there's ice
it's not nice
and in the snow
we don't go
anywhere

Everyone needs a helping hand,
To band as one,
To fight not run,
To have some fun,
And to help lift the tonne.

A hand to hold,
When it's getting cold,
When you need to be told,
That you are the gold.

It'll be there for you,
When you're feeling blue,
To give you something to do,
And something to look forward to,
But you've no clue,
As to why they stay with you.

As to why they help you through,
Your life that is a devilish stew,
But they make you feel as good as new,
Get you out of that horrid zoo,
Make you want to get back with the crew,
All because of this hand, who knew?

The questions grew and grew,
The theories starting to brew,
Why was this hand helping you?

Well, that's easy,
Because they care,
So, if you ever need a helping hand,
Know that there's at least one in this land.

The metal hanging from my wrists,
And the steel clutching my ankles,
The chains weighing me down.

The chains not allowing me to move,
Or eat, or drink, or breathe,
The chains that stop me,
In my tracks,
Simply to listen,
To give in.

The chains of depression,
Dragging me into the depths,
The darkness that lays below,
These chains are the problem.

Will I ever escape them?
Will I ever find a way out?
Will I ever be free?
Was I ever free?
How am I supposed to know?

The chains that cling onto my limbs,
Are the chains we all dread,
We all despise,
We all don't want in our lives.

But hey, I was lucky enough to get them.

The sight of rain,
of wet clothes, wet plants,
wet doorsteps, wet hopes and dreams,
and, that known scent of sadness and grief
all these...create soggy, sluggish minds

we just lost two dogs to the virus
the glum of monsoon rains affects the moods
the "yays" from cancelled classes
have all passed...
sun is shining, not too bright, though,
peeps like a tease, but,
enough to dry the ground...

i see vacant lots...almost naked now
motor's droning hum is a lullaby
that lulls the mind
a strong smell stirs the nostrils and
defines a welcome pleasance...
i sniff....and chase away sadness,
with this intriguing scent
.....of freshly cut grass....


Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    July 25, 2018

Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at the feet
And blooms that scent the night and day
Would steal a heart, then fade away

With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills an addled head
Then turns to dust before the eyes
Leaving naught, but sad surprise

Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong an offered hand

Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear a cheek

Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to ***** and blind the eyes

I pretend that I am happy
When I'm all but sad
Pretend I'm in a good mood
When that's clearly not in my head

I pretend that I am caring
When selfishness fills my plate
When mostly thin I'm wearing
I pretend I have all day

I pretend that I am having
The very best of times
I pretend to think of others
But I can't spare the dime

I often say that I'm okay
When I may not be
As I pretend to be all these things
But maybe that's just me

I pretend to be concerned
When I'm really not
If patience is a virtue
I pretend even that

Whatever it is I'm not into
That's when I pretend
And if it goes over well enough
Why not pretend it again

Sometimes I do get confused
Is this real or just pretending
I guess that all depends
Which one has the happy ending