INNER PEACE

We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it isn’t coming
Because we’re waiting
For everyone we come across
To understand, cheer and congratulate us

We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it isn’t coming
Because we’re waiting
For our life to be ‘perfect’
Before we start appreciating ourselves

We’re all fighting for peace on the inside
And it’s not comming
Because we’ve closed
Our eyes to how much we’ve achieved
And we’d rather focus on how
Many times we’ve failed

We’re all fighting for inner peace
But we’d rather recount our errors in life
We’re all fighting for inner peace
Yet we’re working so hard to keep ourselves unhappy

©writingcarrel

I DISLIKE WHAT I LIKE MOST.

I dislike writing
Especially Fiction,
It’s always a battle
Between the pen and I.
Most times, I want a story
That won’t be long
And I plan it that way

But once I start writing
I find the pen running on its own.
I try my best to stop the flow
To make it sound my way,
But the pen outruns me
And hits the line.

And then, I want the story to end
But the pen keeps running.
I watch myself struggling
Between my pen and my will
The will of the pen most times prevails
And just leaves me just there.

©writingcarrel 2019

DID WE REALLY GROW?

Times were,
When we’d rather spare the spoon
To say Hi,
So free, like children dancing at moonlight
Unafraid of darkness or snake bites

We wandered about with the purity of childhood,
Building sand castles; playing hide and seek
Then we “grew” and understood pride

Yes…We peeped at each other’s garage and fought
And held hands when  dining with apologies
Giving ourselves childish promises, 
Not to repeat the mess… 

It wouldn’t take minutes to go back the path, we vowed not to again take

This cycle continued…
Till we hit puberty, 
We no longer embraced the coziness of the moon,
We spat at the sun and it fell on us,
It gave us the mantle to spit on ourselves

Yes we “grew,”
We fought and got too busy to dine with apologies..
So we left everything in the hands of growth.
And blamed maturity for every immaturity we displayed …

The question is “Did we really grow?”

©writingcarrel  2019