I must say that I have been blessed with amazing people in my life, who at every point, through every struggle, in moments of joy and periods of tribulations have always reminded me of God and have always found their own special ways of uplifting my spirit.

I have been blessed with friends who, if they could, would take away the pain that I feel. And because that is impossible they resort to praying for me.

It is true that true love is when you find yourself praying for another selflessly, earnestly.

I have been blessed with people who sit and write a poem for me, about whatever I’m going through, to show me they understand, to show me that I am loved.

The Poem:

UNTITLED 

 

You make it easy not to trust you

Breathing quite easy

You say one thing now, and another the next

Let me dumb it down for you

You make me doubt you

I doubt your eyes

I doubt your smile

I doubt your words

Everything has become meaningless

Mortal man, why do you do that? 

Does it come naturally? 

Kinda like a sixth sense? 

Another ligament or organ? 

Young man, doubt opens a lot of doors

Doors open to roads

Roads which begin from that door are often dark and cold, sinister even. 

Like a game show, door one leads to distrust 

Ah, distrust is like your shadow, always close-by. 

Mortal man, why do you make me doubt you?

 

……….

She always understands.

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