Look Into The Mirror

Look into the mirror,
Do you see what I see,
I see a young girl,
Who is pretty and free,
A blessing to others,
As smart as can be,
Yes look in the mirror,
And see what I see.

Look into the mirror,
Do you hear what I hear,
I hear a young girl,
Who is full of good cheer,
With laughter like music,
And spirit so clear,
Yes look in the mirror,
And hear what I hear.

Look into the mirror,
Do you find what I find,
I find a young girl,
Who is gentle and kind,
With a heart that explodes,
And a beautiful mind,
Yes look in the mirror,
And find what I find.

Look into the mirror,
Do you feel what I feel,
I feel a young girl,
Who my heart wants to heal,
A child born to trauma,
Who caught a raw deal,
Yes look in the mirror,
And feel what I feel.

Look into the mirror,
Do you see what I see,
I see a young girl,
Who is pretty like me,
Amazing and special,
And smart as can be,
Yes look in the mirror,
And see what I see.

This poem is the first in a series of works my therapist and I are doing on body image.

Manipulations

Manipulations dark and deep,
Do you believe the lies you speak,
Twisted into tales of woe,
So you can always steal the show.

Manipulations fast and true,
Behind mistrust sits all you do,
Disparaging each choice I make,
While your whole character is fake.

Manipulations cruel and mean,
Your dirty tricks polish the scene,
And all who view are snowed within,
The glamour of your phoney grin.

Manipulations cold and raw,
Your spite exists beneath the thaw,
With one hand you deliver grace,
The other slaps me in the face.

Manipulations harsh and wild,
I always was a baffled child,
I never ever seemed to win,
I always took it on the chin.

Manipulations clash and shout,
You loved to cause a verbal bout,
I quickly learned to keep inside,
Those feelings that I had to hide.

Manipulations old and worn,
Your tricks are feeble and forlorn,
For I know how the game is played,
And shun your narcissistic trade.

Manipulations dark and deep,
My fragile heart would slowly weep,
But now the truth is mine to hold,
The future looks a lot like gold.

Two Hundred Seventeen (for J.B.)

Two hundred seventeen,
Layers peeled away,
We started out,
With fear and doubt,
Persistence won the day,
We built rapport,
And so much more,
I had a lot to say,
Two hundred seventeen,
Still peeling come what may.

Two hundred seventeen,
Voices in the dark,
I ventured in,
We did begin,
So truth could find its mark,
For patience knew,
As knowledge grew,
My words would find their spark,
Two hundred seventeen,
Raw voices set to bark.

Two hundred seventeen,
Traumas to be healed,
We found a way,
To slow decay,
And face what was revealed,
And in our time,
We harnessed rhyme,
So anguish could be sealed,
Two hundred seventeen,
My traumas slowly yield.

Two hundred seventeen,
Moods to mark the day,
My head’s kaput,
With dream’s afoot,
But nature lights the way,
There’s no abyss,
Nor do I miss,
The doorway to foray,
Two hundred seventeen,
My moods are nature’s clay.

Two hundred seventeen,
Poems left to write,
With every verse,
I shed this curse,
Where narcissist’s delight,
No longer prey,
I’ll have my say,
When bark returns to bite,
Two hundred seventeen,
Each poem filled with might.

Two hundred seventeen,
Thank you’s to reward,
If not for you,
I’d still be blue,
And falling on my sword,
But now I find,
I have a mind,
That plays an epic chord,
Two hundred seventeen,
So grateful you’re aboard.

This poem was written for my clinical psychologist, J.B., as a thank you and also a celebration of all the epic work we have done together in therapy.

Nature

Nature doesn’t know your name,
She doesn’t care about your game,
You’re at the mercy of her rules,
She will not entertain such fools,
Who do believe they are to please,
Her ways will bring you to your knees,
So pay attention to her call,
Or crash head first into a fall.

Nature doesn’t really care,
About your struggles with life’s fare,
She’s here because her comfort lies,
In ruling underneath the skies,
Which open when she makes it so,
A flood or drought, it’s all a show,
Of power over human kind,
Who strip the land with never mind.

Nature doesn’t stop for you,
Or anyone that wanders through,
Her process is not ruled by time,
She just creates as poet’s rhyme,
Forever changing every day,
She always has the final say,
It’s life and death before your eyes,
And beauty spread across her skies.

Nature doesn’t ask for wealth,
Her opulence is joy and health,
A richness money cannot buy,
Where fortune favours those who fly,
Escaping into wonderland,
No rabbit hole just peace at hand,
Her healing permeates the soul,
And fills inside that empty hole.

No nature doesn’t know your name,
Nor does she care about your game,
But she will greet you in her arms,
And soothe the pain of life’s alarms,
So journey forth with no pretence,
There’s no more room upon that fence,
Make haste to let your spirit roam,
And let adventure be your home.