Finally, tired body approaches, done.
Everything said reduced to simple point:
learning only half my battle, started
late but no matter, catching up quite fast.
Expression, form of slow revolution;
decompress daily drama, unravel
psyche mysteries, previously lost.
Flotsam washed up on rediscovered soul.

Life can be reinvented, all needed
determination, commitment, belief.
Change not only possible but vital,
focus within those elements required.
Creation’s summit climbed, countless methods
delicately fashioned, considered care:
process transformation as redemption
stop looking for salvation that’s not there.


Written by Internet of Words

Published Writer, 53-ish / Still European / Trauma Survivor / Photos / Exercise / Bisexual / Chaotic Good / HUMAN SPORK / Mental Health / Daily Twitter Short Story / @ProperBard in Residence, My House / Shortlisted & Published Author / Original poems/fiction © IoW 2020