What makes you better than me
Who are you to think of me the way you do?
who gave you the right to rant about me?
Tell me who deemed you the man or the judge?
Why do you hold in so much jealousy?
Who are you to stare and make fun and make me your next casualty?
You silly little person what makes you think in anyway that you are better than me?
Material things you may have more of
but that is not what makes me.
I am a very beautiful person inside and I am filled with nothing but generosity.
So when and if you ever wizen up
and begin to understand that there is more to life then cruelty.
you will come to this place where I am at.
Filled with love, joy, everlasting happiness and much assurance.
Hopefully you can see past all the hurt that you are spitting out.
Come on it's time to grow up and understand what this life is really about
Because money and things don't make a person only
Your inside makes who you are
Don't continue to be so harsh to others
learn to shine brighter than that shooting star
So again I must ask of you be true to who you really are
In everyway I think of you as a beautiful person
so what makes you so much better than me?
What Makes You Better Than Me?
--Carolyn Lewis
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Spiritual Journey of Our Life
Across from the mountains,
A little house sits in the tree's,
I'm lost in tranquility,
As my soul tries to breath.
White clouds moving slowly,
The breeze a calm still,
I'm caught in the moment,
As my heart starts to heal.
A piece of me,
In the startling blue sky,
As I spread my wings,
My soul starts to fly.
I fly to unknown places,
Where pain and hurt once dwelled,
As the memories flow pass me,
My eyes start to swell.
Tear drops drip slowly,
Down my cheeks,
The wind wipes them dry,
And gives me some peace.
Soaring so free,
Over water and land,
My Spirit Guide gently,
Takes me by my hand.
He shows me what was,
And what's meant to be,
And why my life,
Is so important it seems.
A long soar,
Like the eagle high,
I bow my head,
And I start to cry.
Back on the land,
Across from the tree's,
I began to realize,
What healing means.
It mean's not to forget,
Let the past flow,
Of all the horrors,
One soul had to go.
To take the strengths,
And apply them to life,
Is a valuable lesson,
I've learnt this flight.
Alone in the sunset,
I watch it go down,
When I finally realize,
What peace I have found.
A Spiritual Journey by Wind Walker Faith Poems
-- Wind Walker
A little house sits in the tree's,
I'm lost in tranquility,
As my soul tries to breath.
White clouds moving slowly,
The breeze a calm still,
I'm caught in the moment,
As my heart starts to heal.
A piece of me,
In the startling blue sky,
As I spread my wings,
My soul starts to fly.
I fly to unknown places,
Where pain and hurt once dwelled,
As the memories flow pass me,
My eyes start to swell.
Tear drops drip slowly,
Down my cheeks,
The wind wipes them dry,
And gives me some peace.
Soaring so free,
Over water and land,
My Spirit Guide gently,
Takes me by my hand.
He shows me what was,
And what's meant to be,
And why my life,
Is so important it seems.
A long soar,
Like the eagle high,
I bow my head,
And I start to cry.
Back on the land,
Across from the tree's,
I began to realize,
What healing means.
It mean's not to forget,
Let the past flow,
Of all the horrors,
One soul had to go.
To take the strengths,
And apply them to life,
Is a valuable lesson,
I've learnt this flight.
Alone in the sunset,
I watch it go down,
When I finally realize,
What peace I have found.
A Spiritual Journey by Wind Walker Faith Poems
-- Wind Walker
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