I was not supposed to be loved or liked.
Memories of hateful words as punishment for wrong doings became a mirror for my mistakes.
My behaviour  - over emphasized -  pushed me to the streets.
Validation sought after.
The need to be accepted; Understood.
A rebellious child born from the stubborn demon;
Having friendship, love, companionship with ugly looking figures.
The sort that made sense.
My type then!
Bringing comfort stemmed from booze.
Day in and out.
Night after night.
An ugly life, surrounded by never ending dramatic episodes.
Cocooned in confusion of who is real and not.
Guilt stemmed from the destructive road I took.
Self destruction giving way to depression and suicidal thoughts.
The barriers giving way to a bridge crashed against may put an end to this.
Or a dosage of pills making it easy for all.
The need to end it in unimaginable ways.
What good can come out of Nazareth?
Bad, wasted, a disgrace.
Death is a welcomed end.
Should i speak out for help or termed "attention seeker"?
Lonely with the darkness becoming my friend.
Yet He saved me.
Saved by His words;
Comforted with the truth of been loved.
I found a purpose;
Strength through his promise;
Through him, I am free of condemnation.
To have life and have abundantly.
Lost! Yet saved by God.
Saved by God's Grace.
©Naomi Kamara (Pen of Fury)
© Naomi Kamara