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Let the emptiness be your guide,

The light does not forsake you.

Grow your wings and rise,

Rise above the clouds of darkness.

thepleasantsimpleguy

Telling the story

Closing this book before it begins would be a tragedy, so we keep re- reading
our lines, repeating what we know is right.
When I’ve fallen close to the ground you keep me floating. How long ‘til you
give in? My heart can’t emerge from below
the ground if you don’t fight for new soil.
Mud dries, pages loosen.
This story starts with you and me.


Chapter 7 – A father’s love

An arduous path, fate has set before me. The kind which relentlessly taxes my spirit and has begun to slowly erode the very seams of my sanity. The deafening cries inside my mind keep me awake and the deception, lies and manipulation have made their mark on my thoughts. The decision to forgive and not seek retribution has now weakened the once willful patient man. They say that those who leave such matters to faith and goodwill eventually find peace.

Does the father, who withdraws; not because of the unending repression by the ruffians hiding behind their false agenda, but due to his deliberate choice of not separating his daughter from her mother, not deserve better? Or would it have been wiser for him to have unleashed his wrath until he could have had her in his arms? On this path, I have found that a father who withdraws for the sake of his child has a love far greater than the one who does not. I would have never forgiven myself, for letting you be used as leverage by those who sought mischief. I left you in God’s care and I hope you have the same heart as me for you will need it to climb out of the moral-less abyss.

I could write a hundred words, to express how much I miss you and how I long to see you, yet when I start, there is little I can muster. So, for this Father’s Day, I managed to get a painting made for you which I hope holds true to the adage; a picture is worth a thousand words. May you always be happy and healthy and may you always choose the right path, no matter how hard it gets. May you find peace through morality, like I did.

To my Daughter;


All I could write

I could’ve written about
The stars shinning
And the moon hanging low that night.
The sea kissing the shore and
The warm wind softly moving
The hair from my face.
The trees swinging
In the calming melody.
Or the smell
Of salty sea that
Tickled my nose.
But all I could write
About that night
Was you and only you.
How your eyes pierced
Through my soul.
How your skin
Covered me like
The softest blanket
And your lips
Felt like mellow strawberries.
The smell of you
Got me drunk on your love.
We were high that night
And I think that even
The man on the moon
Was envious of our love.


Beautiful

Constantly remind little girls how beautiful they really are.
because too soon,
they will be swallowed up
by the toxicity of society;
their minds twisted and warped
by unrealistic beauty standards
and pencil-thin women on their screens.
remind them of what the truth is;
that they are truly gorgeous
no matter what society tells them.