Are cards ours to play or are they set to decide our life’s role? Are cards dealt for us and is fate in control? Is it my decisions and choices that lead the way ? Or is it a path destined to guide us one way? Does one make his or her own luck? Is it by choice we eventually get stuck? is the universe listening to our hopes and desires? Or is it our own doing that leads and conspires? One of the many mysteries this world holds that’s unknown the question remains; is it fate or our actions alone.
I like writing poetry poems that rhyme Its an enjoyable way I spend my time I like doing DIY, art and craft Drinks with friends and having a laugh I love camping festivals holidays abroad Music gigs of those I adore I enjoy walking my dog everyday Don’t listen to what people say Hate being told how to behave and what to do Can empathise with what others go through Rebel against keeping fit and hate sport A true life learner all self taught I am spiritual not religious anymore Religion causes such an up roar Have belief in the afterlife and aliens too I like learning things of interest to do im considerably happy more often than not Always remember what ive previously forgot Take pride in my work strive to be the best I can be What you see is what you get just me being me.
I am darker than the night, Moving fast as the light. I am stealthy, I am sleek, Skipping above mountain peaks. No human hand can make me. No earthly band can raid me. Built am I to navigate dimensions, Programmed
Destiny —– Is it really the unseen something Determined by omnipotent fate As it is ofttimes defined ? Or just a quasi dream Propelled by intense desire That doesn’t let you sleep Even when you are really tired It’s truely
Sometimes we all get to feeling a little lonely and sad, sometimes the darkness can be so overwhelming there just doesn’t seem to be any light to be found but don’t lose hope God isn’t heartless and when you need
He sits in a room with no windows, the air stagnates rapidly and with no fresh air. Impossible for anyone to animate inside, he ponders how he got there. Mismatched furniture, like his soul, he has had seen better days