Life is an experience, some moments are great, some sad, and some we wish we can relive again. If we can simply see ourselves five years from now, we’d realize what we thought we would never accept and let go, we are now smiling in appreciation and gratitude. At that moment we realize time heals everything if we simply let it be. Danny G.
Compassionate Revenge
The compassionate revenge is saying, I moved on so should you. The compassionate revenge is saying I’m in a great place now, I’m happy, and so should you. The compassionate revenge is saying I wish you all this, and more, and even if you had more I would smile in appreciation and love. The compassionate revenge would say I wish you the best, and sincerely I hope you learned your lesson. Danny G.
Letting Go and Embracing the New
I know I must let go, because in the depth of my being, it’s a dead-end road bound to cause sorrow. I know I must let go, because I need to move on, and looking back perpetuates the unfolding. I know I must let go, for my own good, and I know I must let go, to move on, from the destructive hindrance, of holding on. Danny G.
Seeing Past the Misty Fog (Poem)
As I pull through in the misty fog,
Everywhere is blurry
But the forefront.
I put my backpack on my back,
I open it,
Let the trash drop.
One by one
The trash drops,
As I steadily gaze at the forefront,
Fully immersed on this present moment,
To bring me all I love and need,
Fully immersed on this present moment,
To unfold my path and destiny.
Letting Go (Poem)
As before I was searching for meaning,
Through others and approval.
I can’t fathom the belittling,
Through friends,
And peers.
The teacher who would be constantly
On my case.
About not listening,
And being spaced out,
All day.
Too serious and in my head.
As he made comments,
And mockery,
Without end.
I hated school,
Got mostly Cs,
Just to say I was passing.
Too busy in my own world,
Of music, horse-play,
And band gigs.
Although the words still ring,
Loudly in my ears,
About being stupid and socially weird,
And busy in my own world,
Of depression and fear of my own.
As I contemplate,
The journey and the steep hill,
My resurrection from the pit,
Of disguise and depression,
My self-made misery
Of despair.
Though others simply mirrored back
What I felt.
As I reflect,
On the mountain,
And the dangers,
Of the storm.
It all shaped who I am,
As I molded the clay,
Revived myself from the pit,
Sought myself,
And the divine,
And let go of the past.