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PEACE & TRUTH

BROKEN SOUL 😌

😌😌

COMING TO TERMS WITH SCHIZOPHRENIA – Barry Tebb

Why our son why?

Every morning the same dark chorus wakes me,

And I wonder how I am still alive.

“Balance the forces of life and death”

Is the Kleinian recipe for survival.

“It is God’s will; life is meant to test us”,

My Christian heritage tells me.

“Life is a vale of soul-making”, Keats reminds us.

Insistently the morning traffic hums

As I sip my tea, the list calls to make, and I

Sigh in frustration at unread books.

For solace, I look at cards of Haworth Moorland vistas of unending paths,

Cloudscapes only a Constable could paint High Withens in a gale, the sloping village street.

How? When? Why? ‘The truth’ – if such an entity exists –

Is that I want to run away?

By Peace Truth

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)