We all have a fatalist

Inside of us

Teetering a tight rope

Trying to fight fear for a good show

Those high hopes

are defined by the lies of someone else

We are Brave despite what we tell ourselves

When the circuitry comes caving in

I don’t aspire to high ranks
My humble little life
already so worn
is far too good to trade
for any gold that comes from hell
or any weapon that comes from heaven
None of it is worth it
if my heart holds nothing
I hope my journey
lasts many more miles of road
My verses—though not quite country songs—
bring calm
to my breath

I’ve begun to realize
that great minds
don’t need a thousand words
to change a life
Often
ten
within a poem
can light up
the entire world

"You are neither here nor there,  
How can you be successful?"—a voice in the air.  
It muttered once, but I heard it thrice,  
A haunting echo, not so nice.  

I reflect deep—could this be me?  
Is it instinct or a mind not free?  
Am I imagining things in vain?  
But he is right, and I feel the strain.  

Jack of all trade and master of none,  
But one who masters will inspire someone.  
Too many tasks leave all half done,  
While one at a time brings work well spun.  

All in one is same as nothing,  
But one in one births everything.  
I do not write this to condemn,  
You can succeed with more than ten.  

But purpose and vision must lead the way,  
Without them, you’re a leaf that sways.  
A man without vision is like a trash,  
Waved by the wind in a reckless dash.  

I’m glad I’ve found my voice at last,  
Through Poetry, wisdom shall be cast.

my dad used to tell me about love
not to rush into it
to take your time
"be sure before you jump into it, son"

three years later
i see he wasn't just a hater
he speaks wise words
i should listen more often

i should do a lot of things
i shouldn't cling
i shouldn't cry
should i?
i should.

but i can't.

What I like about my 40’s is I’ve figured out what I like and don’t like.

I unapologetically spend my time the way I want to.  I’ve shed the restraints of others’ expectations.

Because I feel the limits of my energy, I don’t waste my time.

I’ve stepped away from unworthy people. My circle is smaller but, oh, so much better.

On a cloud of gratitude and hard-earned perspective, I float above the trivial.

In my 40’s, I’ve learned that by living for myself—by making my welfare the priority—I can patiently and lovingly show up for others.  

Now I understand, mothering does not have to be an all-consuming martyrdom.

Now I know I cannot fix anyone but myself. Gone is the  weight of other peoples’ issues, shrugged off my shoulders like a heavy winter coat on a warm Spring day.

I am free of the stress caused by the illusion of being in control.  

In my 40’s, I slow down more often. I relish simple pleasures like a nap, a good sale, a bite of a friend’s dessert.

I notice more—the  birds, the changing colors in the sky, the sparkling sound of a loved one’s laughter.

I’m comfortable in my 40’s.

I feel I have arrived.

I feel peace.

I see more beauty than ever before
in this world and myself.  

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.

"The hardest fight is the one inside you."
Not the blade nor the beast,
not the curse in the woods,
but the voice that whispers
when all else is still.

The night is loud with silence,
and the mirror knows your name.
He carries his mother’s magic,
but it’s his shadow he cannot tame.

Exertion has created a map at the back of her hands.
Just like abrasion, when water gently shapes rocks.
She has untied knot after knot.

Her hands carrying eternities of wisdom.

Commoners' indignant?
Youth disinherited?
Ha. Nay.

Intellectuals disrespected.
Visionaries neglected.
Aye.

Yous who don't learn,
Refusin' to see eye-to-eye.
You slight genius, Truth.
Ay;

Afraid to even say hi -
Much less engage in honest, forthright conversation.
Rely on your superstitious,
Your hope is to pray
For ignorance like arrogance be your prey.

Lambs what be foul predators
Fat on the blood of their own ewes.
Singin',

"We know not what we do!
We know not what we do!"

Yet, you do so willfully.

Soon-to-be-nothings;
Absence, as nothingness, will be your eternity.

For the unworthy are rejected, universally.

She keeps misery on her side,
Time and again her wits break a tide.
In prairie fields her mind runs;
With mindful and curious puns.

There she goes skimming through
For something uncalled but yet true.
Her eyes, rolling up and down,
Wearing dark circles like a crown.

Wonders and questions here and there;
Their answers dipped in sweet éclair.
She savors each flavor whole,
With no curiosity to pull a toll.

In Euphoria she goes beyond the skyline
Curious and ecstatic, a feminine Feline.