Sunday, January 24, 2021

Throwing Off the Old Mask

Ones perception of you.
How you should look.
The way you should dress.
 Fitting you into a mold.

This mold that's far too small.
A mold casting for a few.
Does it make me lacking?
Not being able to fit.

The amount of beauty found.
Seen through tinted glass.
A glass now made hazy.
With judgement and contempt.
 
I won't wear makeup for you.
I'll not wear a mask.
To make you see someone else.
Whose beauty you're seeking.
 
This is my beauty. 
It's bursting at the seams.
It's there for all to see.
If only you'd know me.
 
I see beauty every day.
It's made in his image.
Made by his hands.
From dust we shall return.
 
No makeup can compare.
To make up for what he's molded.
I came from my own mold.
It's why I don't fit into yours.
 
I don't need to be more.
Than I was already made to be.
I don't need to hide.
The person you should see.
 
Imperfection is beautiful too.
Blemished are we all.
Refusing to be whited sepulcher's.   
Instead beautifying the inside.
 
Take off the mask.
Remove the paint.
That we hide ourselves with.
Find peace in the image he made you.
 

Copyright 2021 Lauren Hall ©

Friday, January 1, 2021

Your Loss is Felt

 Picking up the phone.
Becomes a nightly routine.
Burning the midnight oil.
To keep your loved one awake.
 
The fear of knowing at some point.
The call won't be taken.
Then until the time.
That your fear has become reality.
 
Sirens and rushing for the door.
Making it all slightly too late.
How long is the question? 
No one can answer.
 
Prayers and tears comes pouring.
Family our only solace.
Grief tears the heart.
Of those who are left behind.
 
To be able to say goodbye.
One last time before you go.
To embrace our loved ones.
Before they walk to the other side.
 
We know there is no more pain.
Suffering in this life is past.
 Yet it doesn't help this broken heart.
To better handle the grief.

Grasping onto what they have left.
Trinkets and old shirts.
Becoming treasures in our life.
Wiping tears on the edge of their sleeve.

The memories are all that's left.
Family and friends to confide.
Reliving the good ol' times.
When we had those family vacations.

Our love will never fade.
Our tears becoming intermittent. 
The hole we feel from your loss.
Means our love for you was greater.


Copyright 2021 Lauren Hall ©