DEATH IN THE LIES WE TELL
Lies held dear for comfort
are lies none the less
who with lies can you set free,
to heal or even bless?
Lies taste sweet as honey
to sugar coat bad taste
Lies hurt, deceive and flatter
undermining intelligence with haste.
By Sandra Ciminelli
Pen With A View
Warm air brings thunder rolling,
a symphony starts in the trees,
as grey clouds shield the sun,
air cools with a blowing breeze.
Motor sounds of cars and bikes
are deafened by the rain,
Colliding forces fight for control,
and tyres splash through the wet.
Veins of light shooting down to earth
as water pours out from the sky,
saturating the thirsty ground,
leaving nothing out there dry.
By Sandra Ciminelli.
injected with truth.
avoidance becomes depression.
surfacing a toxic mess.
angrily travel back in time.
strengthened by truth
Empowered by love,
by Sandra Ciminelli. 2016
Misery likes company
doesn’t want to be alone,
it drags you down into the hole,
dries you up right to the bone.
It takes away your sweetness
and your family you will rob.
You’ll lie and steal for the vice,
Your word won’t be worth a bob.
You’ll look for love and not find it,
Misery thrives on defeat.
Don’t look for love in the drugs,
you’ll pay dearly for its keep.
Addiction will cost you more,
than the dollars you’re willing to pay.
Your self worth, your friends & family gone,
now that misery has you enslaved.
By Sandra Ciminelli.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
There are 24 hour Emergency counselling services
Some things that our parents say to us stick. Their words become our inner voice.
Watch your step is what my father said,
being a person of your word’s a must
Once your credibility’s lost you’re toast,
& what you say, others will distrust.
I learnt a lot from my old man
who valued others before him
He gave me an understanding
that beauty lays within.
Unless you’re as sweet as honey
flowing with love as if on tap
there’s no amount of money
that can sweeten the sour sap.
By Sandra C.
Image: My father on the left with his brother in Uruguay.
Thanks for always being there!