Silently Inside

Pain has come and pain has gone.
It’s up and down as life goes on.
Unwelcomed tears, still they came.
You must obey the rules of the game.
No room for fear. Nowhere to hide.
You can only cry aloud silently inside.

The voice will fade. The pain will too.
You must learn to breathe it through.
Trust the one instructing you.
Only they know what to do.
Leave those closing eyes open wide.
You can cry aloud silently inside.

Caught within a world of fury.
Self made judge and jury.
So much noise within the silence.
Penned beneath the raging violence.
Muffled within the voice that tried.
I heard you cry aloud silently inside.

Wasted life upon the floor.
Her Savior shouts, “They’ll be no more!
The life I made. The life I love
Will take no more push and shove!
My child, you need no longer hide.
I heard you cry aloud silently inside.”

2-3-2019 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
“But I will sing of thy power; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning:
for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble.”

– Psalm 59:16 KJV

Crying, A Stress Reliever

Crying is such a stress reliever.
Especially when you think it does no good.
For it’s when you feel it’s for no reason,
That it does more than you thought it could.
It helps the hurting lighten up
When you’re too exhausted to breathe.
You feel a lot of tension ease
Just by letting your tears release.

12-28-1992
Written by Gail Brookshire

Eminent Rejections

Frosted warnings,
Evil mornings,
No one left too soon.
We were all at fault
For the inevitable fall,
Beneath the devious moon.
We allegate
The coming fate,
By allowing all the tears.
But never once
Ask for what
Could save the approaching years.
We specialize
In explaining lies,
Just for verification
Of the endless longing
For all our wronging.
We make the justification.
Well now have I
Found goodbye
To the one who taught me this.
I send to you
A wish or two,
To reject your eminent kiss.

7-9-1992 Wednesday
Written by Gail Brookshire

Challenged Hearts

Save a tear for me
And wipe away my blood.
Only through my broken window,
Can I escape the flood.
Reach to the sphere above,
And avoid the careless fall.
When you feel the agony,
Do not try to call.
Nails of sand beneath my feet
Touching those at war.
Could you survive the destiny
We all have seen before?
Walk away and taste the sweat
Falling forth to speak.
Do not try to overcome.
You will always be too weak!

3-8-1991 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero.

Loving Was a New Flame

We were friends for the moment.
We were friends for the years.
We were friends with the laughter.
We were friends with the tears.
We were friends after all the pain.
We were friends after the fight.
We were always friends in life,
And then you were taken in the night.
I miss the way we use to laugh,
And the things we’ve said.
I try to let you rest in peace,
But I just can’t forget.
Upon your tombstone, your name is written,
And so are these words,
“We were always friends,
And we will be forever.”

12-7-1990 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: the loss of a dear friend

(10) Ten Years

For so long… he wanted me.
For so long… he watched.
For so long… he followed.
And never once got lost.
Every breath I took,
He knew how deep I inhaled.
Every wink I made,
He knew the length in detail.
So many times… he dreamt of me.
So many times… he called.
But never once left his name,
Or even spoke after all.
Instead he waited for a night,
And followed me all the way home.
He let me go on in
To make sure that I was alone.
And instead of making me comfortable,
He only brought me tears.
And for what he had taken from me,
He only got 10 years.

11-29-1990 Thursday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero

Surviving the Knife

Knives,
The wound invention.
Scarred,
There’s no prevention.
Memories,
Unnecessary reminders.
Tragedies,
The unbreakable binders.
Blood,
The tears of a heart.
Sweat,
From fighting so hard.
Screams,
The voice of the weak,
Tears,
A soul with a leak.
Aching,
A natural way of life.
Surviving,
By holding the knife.

9-16-1990 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
God is my hero