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Waterside

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Hold me while I fall apart

the little things I say as we sit by the waterside 

my memories start to slip away like the waves up on the bay 

 what is he who comes to my side?

all the bad things start to fade away 

take it away I say as he holds my hands

broken dreams, making plans 

hold me I’m falling apart

this feeling surely cannot last by the waterside  

 

JC

 

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The choice 

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Translation of my Arabic Poem (“The Choice”) 

Who, in the World, chooses his birth? 
Who chooses his family and children? 
Who chooses his fate and country? 
Who chooses the time to go to heaven? 

But it is possible to choose our day 
To sincerely care about family and work 
This will be the first right step to our future 
To achieve our goals while we're alive 

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Laugh to Live.

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Happiness, in hands for you.

If you decided, not to be sad.

As a cup of water, to drink.

To clean your thoughts, to be glad.

 

Sadness, does not need to broach.

It always knocks, worried heart.

But Happiness, with a golden coach.

Asks, to ride happiness cart.

 

The Brain is yours, “to make use”.

Positively, think of your own.

Feel your value, never abuse.

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turning point

Part of my disorder

is that consistancy isn't real

every day is a wave that I am forced to ride

I want to grab each day by the horns

I don't want to be on a ride anymore

I want to be the driver

I want to set the pace of my days 

I will see a time where this is my present

and not just a fantasy

I will have control over my life

one day

 

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