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“Many will notice the change in your attitude,
and make judgements, call you names – arrogant,
Ill tempered. But only a select few will see beyond
and notice the hurt, pain, rejection that triggered
the anger, and activated your defence
in the form of changed attitude.
And of these few who notice, barely exceptional ones, will care enough to act and see their contribution to your pain – apologise or take corrective actions, to help your heart heal.
To find someone who understands your emotions so well and does not define you by your outbursts or your temper, but instead sees the factors that trigger those reactions in you, even when they are at the receiving end, is nothing less than a miracle.”
―
and make judgements, call you names – arrogant,
Ill tempered. But only a select few will see beyond
and notice the hurt, pain, rejection that triggered
the anger, and activated your defence
in the form of changed attitude.
And of these few who notice, barely exceptional ones, will care enough to act and see their contribution to your pain – apologise or take corrective actions, to help your heart heal.
To find someone who understands your emotions so well and does not define you by your outbursts or your temper, but instead sees the factors that trigger those reactions in you, even when they are at the receiving end, is nothing less than a miracle.”
―
“The Cold Within"
Six humans trapped in happenstance
In dark and bitter cold,
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.
The first woman held hers back
For of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.
The next man looking across the way
Saw not one of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.
The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use,
To warm the idle rich?
The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned,
From the lazy, shiftless poor.
The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
The last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave,
Was how he played the game.
The logs held tight in death's still hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.”
―
Six humans trapped in happenstance
In dark and bitter cold,
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.
The first woman held hers back
For of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.
The next man looking across the way
Saw not one of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.
The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use,
To warm the idle rich?
The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned,
From the lazy, shiftless poor.
The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
The last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave,
Was how he played the game.
The logs held tight in death's still hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.”
―
Dawn’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at Dawn’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
13 books
|
11 friends
134 books
|
43 friends
1 book
|
40 friends
0 books
|
48 friends
0 books
|
58 friends
1 book
|
127 friends
0 books
|
3 friends
78 books
|
49 friends
More friends…
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