Darkest Days – Poem 5 – Objectivity

But you see,
         It’s hard to be objective
         When you fall to the ground
         Cus you can’t breathe anymore –

         It’s hard to be objective
         When you cry in your sleep
         Cus your heart lies bleeding on the floor –

                                                                                    It’s hard…


Darkest Days – Poem 4 – Ashes Like Snow

         Can a house burn up while it’s burning down?
         This fire has taken up more than half the town

         I calm myself down – I say a prayer
         When I breathe, I can taste the smoke in the air

         Black orangish clouds creep across the whole sky
         The wind blows too fast, too hot, and too dry

         Fear grips my chest – smoke – I can’t breathe anymore
         The world starts to spin, as, I sink to the floor

         “All I hold dear is gone now” I cry
         As ashes fall softly like snow from the sky


         It’s wintertime here, and Christmas is coming
         With holiday songs about drummer boys drumming

         I hear jingling bells and see Christmas decor
         Kind people wrap presents to give to the poor

         Wreaths and holly will hang from each door
         Fresh gingerbread man – and the children want more

         The gift that I bought her, pies that I would bake
         When it comes to mind, my heart starts to break

         Something Christmas is missing, I’m not going to lie
         I ask for a white Christmas, and what’s the reply?
         Just ashes falling like snow from the sky


         To buy me that house, I saved all my life
         That house was a home, not one bit of strife

         I gave up my todays for her tomorrows
         I gave her a home to protect her from sorrows

         Up in the hills, where the weather is drier
         Our house was one of the first to catch fire

         The firemen tell me beyond a doubt
         That my girl didn’t even try to get out

         She hated her pain, she wanted to die
         I feel so angry and sad – she didn’t even try!
         And the ash it now falls like snow from the sky


         My past and my future have gone up in flame
         My hope, my heart, my house, my dame

         This life – what’s left – this ash – it’s my fate
         I wanted to save her, but I was too late

         This nightmare I wish was just a dream
         If I could speak, or breathe, I’m sure I would scream

         She was scared of the dark, so I held her at night
         I comforted – told her things would be alright

         I told her that Christmas would be quite a sight
         Said we could go see trees all dusted in white
         But only ash falls like snow tonight


         So Christmas is here – the cheer and the laughter
         The reading of stories and happy ever after

         At least I’m sure that’s how some people feel
         Far away from this fire, where pain seems unreal

         When carols are sung, and stories are read
         To me it all seems so empty and dead

         The lights are so bright, the beauty of night
         I hear someone saying things will be alright

         Then I try to breathe, but the air is too dry
         I hold on to hope, at least, I do try
         But inside of my soul, I’ve started to die
         There’s nothing left in me – I can’t even cry
         And the ash like sweet snow still falls from the sky

Darkest Days – Poem 3 – Breakdown


            Here I am, out in the dark, lost
            I’ve tried to find my way
            I wander around this maze of a forest
            I go in a circle and wind up where I started
            This forest that’s somehow a desert too
            My focus is gone, mow by balance too
            I looked, and thought, and wandered…
            I can’t wander anymore

            The enemy surrounds me now
            Threats on every side, I used to fight
            I tried to protect you, tried to protect me
            There’s so much evil, and it’s gotten the better of me
            I’m tired, broken, beat up, down on the ground
            I tried to block, but they were faster
            Bigger and strong, dragons have no mercy
                        when they take you down
            They’ve torn me apart, but won’t quit ’til I’m dead
            I’ve fought before
            But I can’t fight anymore

            Here I am, I’m falling apart on the inside
            I used to be tough and strong
            I was logical and had no fear
            I figured stuff out, searched for the truth
            Balanced my life, my mind
            Stabilized my emotional, accepted my pain
            But the dark cloud has caught up to me
            My mind and my feelings, the real me is breaking
            The confusion is winning, my mind can’t hold on
                        – BreakDown –
            I’ve held myself together for so long
            But I can’t hold on anymore

            I have a big heart, but it’s all in pieces
            I’ve lived and loved and laughed
            I’ve given away my life, one day at a time
            I’ve loved with a care deeper than life
            I’ve loved those who hurt me, I’ve forgiven
            I’ve given my all, but now I’m all gone
            My broken, bleeding self –
                        All I have, all I am, all I’ve become
                        I can’t pretend anymore
                        I’ve said I’m okay
                        I’m not okay anymore

            So that’s me, that’s where I am
            I’ve run the race, and fallen on my face
            I can’t find my way, can’t even hold on
            I can’t pretend to be okay, can’t fight anymore
            That’s my story, it’s all I have
            No one else is here to help
            I’m lying here, I’m praying to You
            God – here I am, all of me is Yours
            Here’s what’s left of me, I still give myself to You
            I lay my broken heart before You
                        It’s all I have!

Darkest Days – Poem 2 – The Trail of Blood Ends Here

As I walked down the garden path
The red contrasting with the green grass
      caught my eye

I saw it was blood and followed the
Trail of blood a few feet when I saw
      She was dead, curled up in a ball

Her face looked quite peaceful and calm
Lying in a pool of crimson
      both wrists slices from palm to the end of the forearm
      and next to her a note

I felt dizzy and sick – I had to sit down
      but then I picked up the note and read:


                  You may be wondering why I’m dead
                  A happy, stable young lass like me –

                  You might wonder if you would have
                              Comforted or cheer me
                                    But no –
                  I loved life, don’t get that wrong
                  I dance and sing and love to make pie
                  That’s not why I had to die
                  Yes, I had lots of pain in my life
                  But I was cool with it – I didn’t want to escape

                  I killed myself, and I’ll tell you why
                  I’ll tell you why I had to die
                  Wherever I go, I try to leave
                              some sort of legacy
                  I tried to leave smiles and hugs,
                  Laughter and warmth, healing and hope

                  But I’m trouble – behind me you’ll see
                              my true and real legacy
                  I leave a trail of blood behind me
                              I break heart and harm people
                              wherever I go

                  I tear people’s hearts out – I ruin their lives
                  They trust me and I repay them with lies
                  You can’t just say sorry; what’s done is done
                  But I can stop it from happening again

                  Sure I might also bring laughter and song
                  But it’s the blood that catches my eye
                  Light and laughter will go on the world
                  But this life of shedding blood will end

                  May God heal all those who are hurt by my head
                  This isn’t how I wanted things to be
                  But my life has been just a trail of blood to others,
                  And this trail of blood ends here.


Darkest Days – Poem 1 – Decision!


I am making a mistake
But I don’t know what the mistake is
I don’t know a better option –


If I choose one thing,
It will end very, very badly
If I choose the alternative
It will end even worse

If I circumvent those two disasters somehow
I’ll fall into a new and unforeseen disaster
Like the wise man who carefully avoided the banana peel
Only to fall into an open manhole

So I’m choosing to make a mistake
It’s not like I have a choice
The only question before is this:
Which mistake is the best one to make?
Or, perhaps the better question would be:
Which mistake would I rather make?

But even asking that might be an error
Not that I know to resolve any of those questions
Oh well – I think I’ll grow used to the idea
That I’m going to make mistakes and errors

I can’t think my way out of it
I’ll just wait, and accept the consequences
Whatever I choose them to be
By making whatever mistakes I’ll make
And am making
So there.


All people have pain. Some people have deep and terrifying internal pain, at points. Now, there is one huge difference between those who end up healing from that pain, and those two don’t – the difference is whether they are willing to go to those dark places inside of themselves.

Some people seem to live by the motto, “We don’t go there,” in order to stay “fine.” Anyway, I’m going to be posting a series of poems that I myself wrote several years ago, when I was going through a really dark time myself.


At this point in my life, I have full healing from those things. So first of all, that means that once you “go there,” you don’t have to get stuck there! Healing IS possible! One can absolutely must it through these things. The wounds from the past are now, in my life, nothing but scars that have an old story attached.

My motto is:  We DO go there!

A humorous caricature of the other approach (we don’t go there) is excellently illustrated in this sketch: “Stop It” Therapy 

So, the next several posts will be a collection of my “Darkest Days” poems. Enjoy!