I look at you, and I see Penny.
I hug you and imagine it’s her.
I know this is wrong, but I miss her so much.
I know she would want me to love another dog.
I know she wants me to adopt more and love more.
It’s not fair to you to compare you to her.
My Penny is gone and my Harper is here.
I am sorry my dear, I love you too.
Saying goodbye is always so hard.
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Ramblings of a Chaotic Mind This is a collection of poems, thoughts, short stories, and art. I hope you enjoy them.
Many of my poems might be dark and depressing, but writing is how I cope with things life throws at us. When I’m frustrated, hurt, and sad, I write. It helps me cope with my feelings though not every poem will fit this description most of them will.
I write on a slew of subjects; motherhood, family, miscarriage, children, raising children and many more. Sometimes moms get into a competition of who’s the better mother or who has the best kids, whose job is hard, and that mindset helps no one. I promise to be as real as I can, hoping the things that have challenged me can help someone else.
Women rarely support each other. It is hard to find women that support each other.
When I was in school, kids bullied me. My mom was the sick mom with cancer and we didn’t have a lot of money, My clothes were old and torn. Since then I had low self-esteem.
I found later that writing was something I loved. And when I found Roleplay, I made friends fast, and I didn’t believe it. Someone told me I was their best friend, and I took a long time to believe it. Because who wants me as a best friend?
When it comes to Role Play, it seemsa lot ofwomen think they must be the center of attention. In a role play, you can be anyone you want to be. I find people change who they are and use fake profiles because they are not happy with themselves.
Role Play is best when you let people be creative. We’ve had some awesome plots that were not created by admins. My friend Breen created two plots that were amazing. I know will blush if she reads this but its true.
Women should be supporting each other and encouraging each other. We should take a step back and allow others to have the spotlight on them.
Of course, this goes beyond writing and role-playing and into everything we do. Women need to support each other and lift each other up instead of tearing each other down.
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As much as I give, I lose.
As much as I care, they don’t.
How do you know how important you are?
Do I think more of you than you think of me?
I am hopeless and alone, always and forever
As much as I help, it’s never enough.
As much as I love, I hurt.
I am not important and never have been.
To those I care about, they care little for me.
I am hopeless and alone, always and forever.
I am the one who gets tossed aside, forgotten each time.
A new thing comes along.
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It eats away at your soul.
First you think it’s all a joke,
Then they make you wonder.
Is it a joke?
The taunts eat at you,
over and over again
Until you are a shell of what you once were.
You question it all and run and hide away.
It eats away at your heart.
The harsh words said in jest.
They make you wonder?
Are they real or folly?
Until you are a shell of what you once were.
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Why do I speak?
Why do I speak up when my words hurt others?
Is it better to be meek and quiet and stay away?
Is it better to just let things go and move on?
All I want to do right now is hide, but the pain is too much.
I hide but then in that hiding there is so much pain.
I don’t want to hide but I can’t deal.
I can’t handle the arguments and rejection
So I pull myself away and hide though I cry.
When I speak, I am loud and brash.
I say what I mean.
When I speak people become upset.
They lash out of they lash out on themselves
Blaming themselves instead of fixing what’s wrong.
Then they turned it on me once again and I hid.
Should I face them, what good will come of that.
Facing someone leads to more problems but the problems I have are within me and not you.
I can only take so much before I speak.
I can only be so quiet before I say something.
And it's in that saying something that these issues come out.
Nothing is fixed, it's only me and me alone who has the issues.
All else falls to the side as I hide.
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We all see the posts of Facebook of parents who talk about their perfect kids… Meanwhile my house is a zoo. They are not bad kids. They just helped my neighbor find a lost cat, They helped people shovel out from the snow (not for money, just to help), but sometimes I wonder if what I say matters to them. Of course people only put the positive on social media, but for all those parents out there who wonder why nothing works, you are not alone.
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
I pace back and forth outside in the cold.
Back and forth trying to calm myself.
I know I shouldn’t have shouted, but nothing is working.
My throat hurts and I sit outside thinking of what I could have done better.
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
Wondering what I said wrong and why they aren’t listening.
Nothing is working, maybe it's me.
Am I a bad mom?
Why don’t they care about each other, about their grades, about anything?
What is wrong with his generation?
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
Nothing is working.
Nothing I say matters.
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I had an interesting experience at church last week and it reminded me of these two stories I have heard pastors use for their sermons.
In the first story, a man is visiting a church. This man sat in a pew and a lady came up to him and said, “I’m sorry, but you are sitting in my pew.” This man got up and moved to another pew. Again, a man came up to him and said, “You’re sitting in my pew.” This happened several times before the man left the church. I have heard this story told by pastors with the message of welcoming new members.
There is another version of this story where the man sitting in everyone’s pew was a homeless man who smelled and wore torn clothes. At the end of this story, he came to the front of the church and said, “You asked me to move because I was sitting in your pew. I have sat in your pew and have died for your sins.” The man was Jesus. The Bible says giving to those in need is giving to Jesus. We should embrace people in need and welcome them.
When I went to church last weekend with my children, I had a similar experience. I drove into the parking lot and saw an open parking space. I drove in and parked, while a car came up next to mine and rolled down the window. A middle-aged woman was in the driver’s seat, so I assumed she needed directions or something.
So I asked, “Can I help you with anything?” What came next surprised both me and my children. She said, “It’s my parking spot. We only have six spots, so you need to move.”
I looked at her, confused for a moment, then I realized she was attending the church next to mine. So I replied, “Well, it’s a good thing I am not coming here to visit your church because I will never come back.” I then drove off and parked my car elsewhere.
The woman pulled out of the spot she was in and moved her car closer to her church. My kids caught this and said, “So she just pulled in next to you to tell you to move your car. Jesus will not like that.” And my kids are correct. What if someone was planning on visiting this church or someone thinking about becoming a Christian? That person may never want to visit another church or become a Christian if Christians treat others this way. My daughter said, “I guess that’s why they only have 6 parking spots; no one wants to go to their church. I love our church. Everyone is nice and friendly.”
People expect Christians to be perfect, but we are far from perfect. Sometimes it takes compassion and common sense. This woman didn’t have either. She taught my children a lesson. She taught them to always welcome others because they know what it feels to not be welcome. It might be a small thing, but for someone searching for a church or someone searching for God, it’s a big thing.
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The sun hit her long chestnut brown hair highlighting the golden hues.
Her wings glistened in the sunlight as she dried herself and turned.
She smiled looking at him, with her gaze falling to his eyes.
His sea-blue eyes that made her blush but who was he?
He was in awe of her beauty, of her wings and her eyes.
Her green eyes looked him up and down.
He knew her; he knew her gaze.
It warmed his soul as he stood there wanting to go to her.
Wanting to touch her, to talk to her, but he found he couldn’t speak.
The fairy twirled as she dried the rest of her clothes,
Whirling her wand around her emerald dress.
The man watched her with a yearning smile on his face.
He knew at this moment; the fairy was to be his.
The fairy, however, bowed and vanished before his eyes.
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