Poetry: Part of my story

I began my story with white laughter
until you came with worries of the word.
You taught me to speak so I’d say master.
And say God grew into one from the third.

I later found mirrors mimicking me
alcohol aided my laughter and pain.
Somehow I bought chains and cuffed what was free,
and left weak women who left in the rain.

Now the school has tied my mind with its wars
and reminds me mosquitoes are like birds.
Look at the board bearing holes from the scores.
Nothing has changed, not the temple of words

The church is silent since it began there,
All I’ve asked are for plugs to keep out fear.

Ruddapoet
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Of all the stories i read about me,
These tabloids did justice; they knew nothing.
One called me a fig, a sycamore tree,
A doorstep, leading nowhere to something.

I have since then gathered my fallen leaves,
Tethered them through hands of leaning branches.
Learned living life while ignoring what grieves,
Believing in what gives second chances.

These papers still write,their contents a shame.
I’ve become a bird,a wailing pelican.
The water at sea does not float the same,
Torrents will gladly unfriend any man.

Now I’m standing above, waving below,
A motion to fear, I will never show.

Leonell
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Goodbye to the guilt that fear on me wrought,
I shall no more conform to its rhythm.
Beaten to a state that aids myself naught.
So yes! It’s a wave of fiery spasm

Goodbye ol’ dear friend, tis time- paths do part
I have discovered a new route to sail
But I must say my thanks, you made me smart
My mind has fetched lessons from you like pail

Goodbye to you who ignited my strength
Now is time to show the wishes you built
I hope our days apart increase in length
My heart don tire to dey feel your guilt

Those papered content of shame I seek change,
For that, ol’ dear fear, please stay out my range.

Snizel.
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I saw myself as another minor,
For I wrote and tailed the tales I told then.
Speaking to he that stood in the mirror,
We have crossed paths, waved and started again.

I seek to walk with pride through time’s conduits,
And find myself afloat paddling sweet wine.
Above me, a raging storm that befits,
In all these you will see, I will be fine.

Captain the boat! Help me sail this wild coast!
Read the stars right even when I’m offshore.
Until most of my demons I be-host,
Leading them to the future like before.

To fear’s delight finally I am bold.
Tough headed, yet sometimes can become cold.

Emny Circuit.