No 'stinking Thinking' Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The quiet room, a silent space,
No eyes on me, no hurried pace.
Alone, I healed, a gentle art,
A lonely road, a guarded heart.

But whispers creep, a tempting sound,
Where shadows hide, and traps are found.
A slip, a slide, a moment weak,
The darkness calls, the comfort seek.

Yet, something woke, a steady hand,
That took the reins, I understand.
My life, my choice, a clear command,
I stand my ground upon this land.

Bad thoughts like weeds, can start to grow,
'I'm not enough' they softly blow.
'All fails' they sigh, 'it's sure to end'
With proof they lack, they just pretend.

Black and white, no shade in sight,
One small mistake, turns day to night.
One sad event, a future grim,
The whole world dark, from limb to limb.

They guess the worst, without a clue,
'They hate me' says the thought untrue.
My feelings rule, my sad, sad state,
'I feel so low, it seals my fate.'

The worst is here, the sky will fall,
A tiny worry, makes it all
A giant fear, a dreadful doom,
Lost in the shadows of the room.

But I can see, the light is near,
These thoughts I fight, I conquer fear.
My mind is strong, my will is free,
This chosen path belongs to me.