Epitome of man
God made you fine
I know I may not know you
But I sure wish you were mine
Epitome of man standing tall
Your shadow taking form against the wall
Being with you doesn’t seem wrong at all.
Epitome of man
Epitome of man
Come touch my hand
Come kiss me slow
Come be my man and I’ll let go.
This poem was written by me in college. Is there such a person out there? Someone perfect? We all have faults and imperfections. I think it’s more about finding someone that is perfect for us. I’m happy I’ve found that person. It’s been a journey but worth the wait.
With all my love
Hugs from Brooklyn
You are beautiful despite your faults!
Your heart will heal despite the assaults!
Forgive! Let go!
Love! Just love!
Take my hand and lets walk this land
Although it feels you are alone with your pain and that no one cares- you are wrong! There is always someone that cares. Just open your eyes and take notice. Look in the mirror because that person staring back at you loves you so much. The evolved you knows that whatever you are going through shall pass. You are a survivor. You are blessed and you are loved. Sending good vibes and hugs from Brooklyn.
Yes that is right. As with social media after a while we get caught up in how many likes we get and how many followers we have for our posts but we need to remember why we started on this site to begin with.
For those that are trying to sell a book or quit their jobs and prosper on WordPress revenue then by all means invest in yourself. If you are like me and are just passionate about writing and sharing then just keep writing and sharing. It will be slow but you will get followers.
If you have great content it will speak for itself and eventually prosper. Don’t get discouraged when you hear crickets with your blog posts. Trust me someone is reading it and it might only be your one friend but don’t discount that person. Each person that reads and follows is important because they took time out to read your post and comment or perhaps not comment. You aren’t less worthy because you have less likes or few followers. You are grand because you dared yourself to share your thoughts, your poetry, your fears, your secrets and your fantasies with the world. You are a writer! You are a blogger! You are a visionary! You matter! In reality you only need one person to like, love and be passionate about your writing and that person should be you yourself.
With that being said I want to thank my followers for liking my content. I consider each of you special.
Oh, how I wish you were here! I wish to have you near. I still feel your hands around my neck. I thought you wanted to hold me in embrace. Well if I saw you again—I’ll spit in your face!
Have a grand day
Love Guady G
By no means do I condone violence
or revenge but a little saliva is okay.
Seriously we are beautiful and wonderful. No one has the right to abuse us. Seek help if you are being abused. You will be okay. You are a survivor. You are meant to shine. Don’t let anyone block your sun. Namaste.
Lost in thought
Thoughts of you
Yes I’m caught
You’re the glue
Crazy Glue kind
Not your Elmer’s Glue find
Baby, I’m so stuck on you
And you without a clue
Good morning my beautiful people. I give thanks for all the great things in my life. I love writing and appreciate this website because it lets me share with the world my writing. I appreciate all of you who read my content. It means a lot. May you all have a blessed day. Thank you Universe for another day. Namaste
Guady G. Muah.
As night falls, I desperately search for your missed calls.
As dawn rises I realize your absence is not a crises.
The person I need to be loving has never left my side.
I am that person and there’s no reason to hide.
So run run run and let me be!
I don’t need you to be happy!
Hugs from Brooklyn
Sometimes I wish I was invisible.
Cause people just don’t care. They just look. They just stare. No one utters a word! I feel absurd.
I know they judge me because I smell of urine, feces and infection. I’m a derelict all haggard and disheveled. I too hate my own relection.
It wasnt always this way. I had a family and a home. I lost it all for going out to roam. Liquor, drugs and seeking prostitutes were my vices. Now my friends are only the lices. How I wish I could go back in time! But I can’t! Maybe I just need to dissapear.
Why are there so many homeless people? Why is there always someone on the train or in the street asking for food or asking for money? Is it always their fault? They stink up the trains. They interrupt our reading. Should they just disappear? Could it ever happen to us? Is it mental illness? Was it their choices that closed doors? I decided to ask.
Stoner as he called himself was only 25. Very attractive if you bathed and clothed him. He told me he was a homosexual. He told his parents at age 16 and he was kicked out the house. They were very religious. He fell into depression and living on the streets wasn’t easy. He was taken in by an older man that prostituted him out in exchange for room and board. He had no choice.
He started begging for money and bought drugs from wherever he could get them. He was 19 and looked older. He needed to numb his feelings. He detested those aggressive men. Then one day he tried to escape and was beaten so badly landing him in the hospital.
One of the nurses told him that God loved him. He was pissed off. His parents told him God had no place for his kind. What God was she taking about?
The hospital gave him money when they discharged him and the kind nurse drove him to the bus depot. She gave him money from her own purse too. He came to NYC on a Greyhound bus. His home and his own town were full of bad memories.
We spoke for almost one hour and I actually had no money to give him so we prayed. We prayed for his parents to have softer hearts. He agreed to enter a drug rehab center to get clean. God loves us all. God is forgiving. I wanted to cry but I held back the tears.
Happy to say that the last time I spoke with him he was clean and living in a small apartment. He was still asking for money but now by playing a guitar and singing. He no longer smelled but still had scars on his face from when he was beaten up. He and his dad were now talking. His mom had passed. He told me he realized God had always been around him.
It’s true everyone has a back story. Perhaps we don’t have to give them money. But please let’s pray for them. Love and prayer doesn’t cost a dime. Prayer does work if we believe. Do you believe?
With love Guady G