Poems by MJWinters
A Unique Life
The world is a catastrophe of motion
The motion predicts the flow
But the strong ones determine their own destination
Their own path to follow
Don’t be subdued by all who condemn you
Don't them them have their way
Life is a door yet to be opened
Not a boat that gets swept away
We each have our own will and reason
We each should have our own say
Let the world be your own exploration
Unique in every way
A Life Beyond Compare
The spirt is heavy, the heart in mourning
Losing a loved one beyond our adoring
His smile infectious, his arms open wide
His heart speaks of truth, without any lies
A cap on his head, a kilt on the ready
He shared his true passions along with the many
Wine for the rains, and games for fun
A track for his trains, trains for his loved ones
In his life he attained, all he held dear
The love of his life, family and friends beyond compare
His force is a part of my life’s journey, never to be denied.
The heart is bleeding, a gaping hole resides
My baby was born in a shadow, never to see the light
The heft of my sorrow is beyond comprehension
It’s a feeling beyond divine
The love I have for him never to be mentioned
I carry it alone through time
The life he brought to me, none will acknowledge.
Still in my heart it resides
Whilst his life was short, surrounds can’t obscure him
Though the memory left is mine
His force is a part of my life’s journey
Never to be denied.
So with heart felt emotion and loves true devotion.
I dedicate this rhyme.
The Tribe’s woman
When I run, I imagine a tribe’s woman,
her strong legs carrying her through the harsh African plans.
Her easy strides eating up the ground,
determination driving her to her next destination.
Mile after mile she runs, through the dry arid land.
The hot unforgiving sun glares down on her,
only her resilience seeing her through.
As I pound the pavement thinking of my day ahead,
all the challenges and hurdles blocking my way,
I think of that tribe’s woman.
How, with a lion’s courage she stares down adversity,
letting nothing get in her way.
When I run, I am that tribe’s woman; strong, determined, resilient and courageous.
Betrayal
Hurt, betrayed, disillusioned.
I thought I knew him, I thought he cared,
But the words flew from his mouth,
and my trust disappeared.
Hurt, that my claim was so easily ignored,
Betrayed, that my pain wasn’t of worth.
Disillusioned, that my love, my friend,
could so easily dismiss the terror brought on by his pairs,
even in mirth.
What do I do when even the closest don’t care,
Don’t care or are scared they themselves might be seared.
Men, all men, and victims, he said.
If so, what am I? The villain?
or does he perceive me as a player drawing them in?
I am neither, only a woman with no say.
A woman with no sway.
I am at the mercy of men in every way.
Who then is the villain,
Who then is the player?
Not I,
I only want to live free from fear,
To live free from despair,
To live FREE
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