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Gefühlvolle Texte aus dem Internet |
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geschrieben am: 27.08.2000 um 19:43 Uhr
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May You Always Feel Loved
May you find serenity and tranquility in a world you may not always understand.
May the pain you have known and the conflict you have experienced give you the strength to walk through life facing each new situation with courage and optimism.
Always know that there are those whose love and understanding will always be there, even when you feel most alone.
May you discover enough goodness in others to believe in a world of peace.
May a kind word, a reassuring touch, a warm smile be yours every day of your life, and may you give these gifts as well as receive them.
Remember the sunshine when the storm seems unending.
Teach love to those who know hate, and let that love embrace you as you go into the world.
May the teaching of those you admire become part of you, so that you may call upon them.
Remember, those whose lives you have touched and who have touched yours are always a part of you, even if the encounters were less than you would have wished.
It is the content of the encounter that is more important than its' form.
May you not become too concerned with material matters, but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart.
Find time in each day to see the beauty and love in the world around you.
Realize that each person has limitless abilities, but each of us is different in our
own way.
What you may feel you lack in one regard may be more than compensated for in another.
What you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future.
May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility.
Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.
May you find enough inner strength to determine your own worth by yourself, and not be dependent on another's judgments of your accomplishments.
May you always feel loved.
Author Unknown
(Ãœbersetzung folgt)
Silent Tears Index |
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| "Autor" |
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geschrieben am: 27.08.2000 um 20:08 Uhr
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Broken Children Are Hard To Mend
For Children Who Were Broken
it is very hard to mend......
Our pain was rarely spoken
and we hid the truth from friends.
Our parents said they loved us,
but they didn't act that way.
They broke our hearts
and stole our worth,
with the things that they would say.
We wanted them to love us.
We didn't know what we did
to make them yell at us
and hit us,
and wish we weren't their kid.
They'd beat us up and scream at us
and blame us for their lives.
Then they'd hold us close inside their arms
and tell us confusing lies
of how they really loved us --
even though we were BAD,
and how it was OUR fault they hit us,
OUR fault that they were mad.
When days were just beginning
we sometimes prayed for them to end,
and when the pain kept coming,
we learned to just pretend
that we were good
and so were they
and this was just
on of those days ...
tomorrow we'd be friends.
We had to believe it so.
We had nowhere else to go.
Each day that we pretended,
we replaced reality
with lies, or dreams,
or angry schemes,
in search of dignity ....
until our lies
got bigger than the truth,
and we had no one real to be
Our bodies were forsaken.
With no safe place to hide,
we learned to stop
hearing and feeling
what they did to our outsides.
We tried to make them love us,
till we hated ourselves instead,
and couldn't see a way out,
and wished that they were dead.
We scared ourselves by thinking that,
and scared ourselves to know,
that we were acting just like them --
and might ever more be so.
To be half the size of a grown-up
and trapped inside their pain....
To every day lose everything
with no savior or refrain...
To wonder how it is possible
that God could so forget
the worthy child you knew you were,
when you had not been damaged yet ...
To figure on your fingers
that the years till you'd be grown
enough to leave the torment
and survive away from home,
were more than you could count to,
or more than you could bear,
was the reality we lived in
and we knew it wasn't fair.
We who grew up broken
are somewhat out of time,
struggling to mend our childhood,
when our peers are in their prime.
Where others find love
and contentment,
we still often have to strive
to remember we are worthy,
and heroes just to be alive.
Some of us are healing.
some are stealing.
Most are passing the anger on.
Some give their lives away to drugs,
or the promise of like beyond.
Some still hide from society.
Some struggle to belong.
But all of us are wishing
the past would not hold on
so long.
There's a lot of digging down to do
to find the child within,
to love away the ugly pain
and feel innocence again.
There is forgiveness
worthy of angel's wings
for remembering those at all,
who abused our sacred childhood
and programmed us to fall.
To seek to understand them,
and how their pain became our own,
is to risk the ground we stand on
to climb the mountain home.
The journey is not so lonely
as in the past it s been ...
More of us are strong enough
to let the growth begin.
But while we're trekking
up the mountain
we need everything we've got,
to face the adults we have become,
and all that we are not.
So when you see us weary
from the day's internal climb ...
When we find fault
with your best efforts,
or treat imperfection
as purposeful crime ...
When you see our quick defenses,
our efforts to control,
our readiness to form a plan
of unrealistic goals ...
When we run into a conflict
and fight to the bitter end,
remember ...
We think that winning means
we won't be hurt |
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| "Autor" |
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geschrieben am: 31.08.2000 um 13:34 Uhr
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..
and the tears of these children were nevern seen
little diamonds left theirs eys
and disappeared in the sun unseen
salty raindrops evaporatet on their faces.
Small humans - small pain?
just we.. grown up can have real big pain!
O we would like to have your sorrows
Would you really?
Your small soul destroied.. broken forevern
but noone who sees that..
children have no real sorrows.. just we.. grown ups
Would you really?
ich kann nicht so gut englisch und schieb mal nach oben weil wichtig!!
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| "Autor" |
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geschrieben am: 04.09.2000 um 10:02 Uhr
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findet diese Zeilen schön und schiebt mal nach oben auf dass mehr Kommentare kommen*
IŽm scared to move. IŽm scared of standing still.
IŽm scared to change. IŽm scared to stay the same.
IŽm so scared I want to die.
IŽm scared of dying.
IŽm scared of not being liked, not being loved.
IŽm scared of being alone.
IŽm scared of being with people.
IŽm scared of diasaproval.
IŽm scared of life.
IŽm scared to lose what I have build.
IŽm scared of being scared.
IŽm scared of being ugly, being dull.
IŽm scared of my thoughts.
IŽm scared of being found out.
IŽm scared to say what I think.
IŽm scared to keep this to a secret.
IŽm scared to say yes to often.
IŽm scared to say no to often.
IŽm scared of disappointing.
IŽm scared of losing control.
IŽm scared of havingt pain, IŽm scared hurting being hurt.
IŽm scared and this wil go on until I die.
IŽm scared of being loved, IŽm scared my heart will broken.
IŽm scared of losing myself.
IŽm scared of finding myself.
Because there might be no one ther at all
IŽm scared of my past.
IŽm scared of the future.
IŽm scared of the darkness.
IŽm scared of tze light because iŽll bee seen.
IŽm scared of failing.
IŽm scared it may all be for nothing.
Keine Sorge...
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