Poem

I found this poem on Pinterest the other evening and wanted to share it with you all, I absolutely adore it.

Ana

You picked me because you think I'm weak,

You picked me because I'm scared,

You are the one I battle,

The one who's always there.

You brought me comfort,

You brought control,

You changed my life,

Confused my goals.

But now I'm getting stronger,

I see the error in your ways,

You are not the friend I needed,

More an enemy in disguise.

I will not let you beat me,

I will not let you win,

I will not let you take my life,

I'm tougher than you think.

The Invitation

I stumbled across this poem and absolutely fell in love with it, I decided to share it so that on those days when I need to get out of my head I can read this and remind myself what I have.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer. 

Don't Quit

Found this poem over the weekend and it really spoke out to me, I don't want to give up and I want to keep on battling through the difficult times life throws at me.

When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must but don't you quit.
Life is queer with it's twists and turns
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow -
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you can never tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far:
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit -
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

Author Unknown.

If I Ever...

If I ever push you away, I don't really mean to.
when I tell you I don't want to talk about it, I do,
I'm just looking for the right words.
I try to be a struggling mix of real and perfect at the same time.
When I get really quiet sometimes it's because
I have too much to say.
I get immaturely jealous of anyone
who gets to see you on a daily basis.
I miss you easily. But I also like that we can be
a p a r t
I love the way we love some of the same things,
and I love how we love entirely different things.
My head is a complicated pile of
thoughts and fears and cravings and dreams and
this tangled up nostalgia
for the past and somehow the future.
I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying
and I am one person and I am two hands and I am one heart and I love you.
And I am so glad you are here.

Not sure who wrote this poem but I've fallen in love with it and wanted to share it with you all, happy Sunday xx

2013 will mark a whole new journey for me, one that has been on my mind for many years but recent events have seen me take a giant step forward and look into starting a new degree, one that will see me ultimately change careers. I know how much of a challenge I am setting myself, and I am sure that there will be times when the mountain seems far too high to climb, so this poem will be the reminder that I can do it, that the pain, the hard work, the anti-social hours I'll keep, the inevitable tears and sleepless nights will all be worth it.

It Couldn’t Be Done

BY EDGAR ALBERT GUEST

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done

      But he with a chuckle replied

That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one

      Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin

      On his face. If he worried he hid it.

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

      That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;

      At least no one ever has done it;”

But he took off his coat and he took off his hat

      And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,

      Without any doubting or quiddit,

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

      That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,

      There are thousands to prophesy failure,

There are thousands to point out to you one by one,

      The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,

      Just take off your coat and go to it;

Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing

      That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.