Have you ever been in situation, where you've really wanted to help someone in their time of need? I often find myself in situations where people open up to me about a personal issue they are battling. However, sometimes the conversation goes so deep that it becomes too intense for me. It's as if the problem becomes mine to feel and to solve. I get so attached to it that I can't stop thinking about it. By this point, I find myself feeling sad and emotionally involved, so I take a step back. Only because, it is the only way I can protect myself from becoming an emotional wreck. I have done a lot of soul-searching to reconcile the mountain of my anxieties, so I cannot emotionally afford to go back down that road again. That doesn't mean that I'm helpless or thoughtless, I will still help someone, within the boundaries that I am able to cope. When I logically think about this, I realise that I must sustain my emotional stability in order to help anyone else; this h
When I was about 14 years old in the midst of my traumas and teenage tantrums I discovered that I could put it all down on paper in rhyme. Over the years I built up a collection of many poems about love, sadness, disappointment, pain and the list goes on. Several months ago this poetry collection fell into my hands whilst I was looking for something else in my garage. A thought crept into my mind, 'I wonder if I could still write these words of rhyme?' It had been quite some years since I had last written a poem but I gave it a keen shot anyway. When I put that pen down to paper the rhymes were just spilling, and I still don't know from where. The inspiration was coming from all my previous life experiences and my state of mind at the time. This spilled ink became my therapy and this passion became the opening of another door for me. I was rebuilding my strength when I found poetry again and I haven't been able to put my pen down since, its become almo