Never Again

Never Again.
From her jail house soul screamed words like hardballs that hit the walls of the prison of her existence and bounced back at her with such force she fell into a deep depression, swallowed the guile of shame and felt the chains of guilt yet again!
Weeping for liberation …again.
Whingeing in frustration …again
and again…
“Mad? Who said I am mad? I have gladly left the land of OZ, the place of gourmet meals laced with poison, where exposed as mere sugar coated lies, sages’ tongues wag niceties and acts picture love”
Hmm, she had left that place…only in her dreams but not in reality it seems.
She yearned to escape the less than place under smothering commands and fearful reprimands, to the more than place of the overcomer and a realised destiny.
No more a locomotive fuelled by anger amidst the wounded masses called Reactionary.
Weeping for liberation … again
Whingeing in frustration … again
and again…
The sound of her tears dripping on the mirror beneath her face reminded her of raindrops on her window sill as she lay peaceful…once upon a time.
She looked back at self and questioned “where is that peace of yesteryears? Where?” then instead of her face she saw Chaos, that counterfeit self… that agent of confusion, that thief of her destiny… that…then she screamed.
A scream that was unlike the sound of defeat, but like a ball of fire unwilling to hit the ground lifeless, for it gained momentum, energised and thundered a command to the lifelong foe glaring back at her “DEPART!”.
As the sound echoed, she saw Chaos flee with her hangman’s noose in hand with dreadful masked cohorts in tow.
And then she knew it,
her voice once lost, regained,
her true self, reacquainted.
No more to weep for liberation … again.
No more to whinge in frustration … again.
Never again
©️April 2019 DENyamekye

Childhood knocks & knock on Effects … Awareness

(Poem – The Awakening below ) 

This is Mental Health Week UK (13-19th May) and Mental Health Month (May) USA

As we all know, there is a knock on effect to problematic issues that happen in our childhood. Thought patterns more often than not become “twisted” due to feelings of anger, revenge or seeking retaliation. Anger and negativity is projected on other people who remind one the abuser.

Some young people join gangs for affirmation, acceptance and love as a result.

The beginning of the healing process is when one realises they have a problem and are willing to confront it head on and seek help.
Hopefully bringing awareness to such issues will cause many to do just that; self-assess, acknowledge a problem, resolve to face it through options available including support. This is because without doing so the future is bleak and potential for greatness and a bright future is never tapped into or realised.

Let those of us who can do our part; Raising Awareness Saves a destiny <> Saves a life

__________**______________

The Awakening 

Razor is my man, loves me and calls me “son”. speaks to me like a Father so I joined his gang “Blades in the Hood”, sooner than later.

My boy self was chained tight to papa, crying like a sissy every night, since he slammed the door shut, his face never again to see.

I lie… I see his face still… even at night curled up like a child.

I see his face in grown men

withering in pain,

crying out,

begging for mercy,

everytime our knives and guns do their thing…target their prey.

And I hear the laughing voice in my head “pay back time!”. Feeling like superman, chains unlocked and riding high…

But …but another voice like mama’s rings louder “life is a lie, get help now!”

Life is a lie, I need help now!

©️26-12-2018 DENyamekye

If you have been affected by this poem (it reminds you of someone) and would like personal (or for someone) prayer, counselling and additional information of where to get help, please email: thewitnessinstitute@gmail.com

On Facebook ? Please like page: The Wrighteous Witness

The Awakening

Razor is my man, loves me and calls me “son”. speaks to me like a Father so I joined his gang “Blades in the Hood”, sooner than later.

My boy self was chained tight to papa, crying like a sissy every night, since he slammed the door shut, his face never again to see.

I lie… I see his face still… even at night curled up like a child.

I see his face in grown men

withering in pain,

crying out,

begging for mercy,

everytime our knives and guns do their thing…target their prey.

And I hear the laughing voice in my head “pay back time!”. Feeling like superman, chains unlocked and riding high…

But …but another voice like mama’s rings louder “life is a lie, get help now!”

Life is a lie, I need help now!

©️26-12-2018 DENyamekye

If you have been affected by this poem (it reminds you of someone) highlighting mental health issues and would like personal (or for someone) prayer, counselling and additional information of where to get help, please email: thewitnessinstitute@gmail.com

On Facebook ? Please like page: The Witness Institute

Prayer (Mental Health)

Dear Heavenly Father,

I pray for those suffering a paralysis of mind and life in general, unable to move on due to hidden childhood scars rooted in abuse and rejection which has resulted in a scarred life; attitudes and acts that continue to be damaging to them and those around them. 

Father you know what each of us has been through and goes through on a daily basis. We cannot hide anything from you. 

I ask that you heal us in our inner man, and deliver us from pretence and falsehood so that our true selves, who you created us to be would emerge fully to the glory of your name. 

For those who are yours in Christ, we desire to be effective witnesses of your kingdom so heal us completely so that we can do the good that we know to do according to your word. 

I pray that you will graciously draw to yourself, multitudes who are suffering in general and particularly in relation to their mental health, that they will find healing and comfort in your Word and the ministry of deliverance in the power of your Holy Spirit.  

In Jesus name I pray, Amen.

Man Child…Still

74DF8A8A-1CF3-4F1B-BD45-25A90478E711A poem inspired by the image (I borrowed: Author unknown) above:

The Man Child …Still

The contours around
his eyes are cracked
with smile tracks.
They hide internal
frowns, a well-worn
mask.

Speaking to please,
he engages in many a
tiresome task for
accolades and praise.

Still, his inner man
hears the voices of dread,
feels dad’s hands hitting
his head. He wants to run,
but no where is there to hide.

So he fakes strength
and a life of fun.
”Anything goes” for
ecstasy and mirth.

Still, his inner child
dreads the break of day
sits cross-legged,
head buried as in sand,
wishing he would die or be
blown away.

Still…

©️20-Oct.2018 DENyamekye

If you have been affected by this poem and would like personal prayer, counselling and additional information of where to get help, please email: thewitnessinstitute@gmail.com