The Calender Poem by Chukwukere Timothy

I lay still as a log,
on my very humble bed.
The fan waving and light ray pouring on me.
But the outdated calender still graces my walls.
The walls of my heart.
These calenders, I refuse to pluck out,
posted me a reminder of past years.
My head gets lighter,
and my mind gets furious.
I am feeling like a fighter.
Regrets battling me.
Turning me into an enemy of myself.
But the real me is caged in those calenders.
The real me in locked in past years.
I'm locked in past fears.
Still crying past tears.
I am locked in.
Steaming so furious, my brain emits smokes.
I thirst to be as a wind,
Free as a bird.
So I picked up my bitterness and chew it.
Its tastes like a corpse,
So I buried it in my past.
Letting go makes me stronger.
As forgiving makes me younger.

...Voices In My Head Poetry Series...
...an SP Timothy jr. Creation...