Worried about the future Worried about the past The worrywart’s worries Make him such an outcast
He dwells incessantly On things that bring demise Every potential threat becomes Something to analyze
The rest of the world just goes on Rolling their logical eyes As the worrywart frets Becoming panicky and paralyzed
It’s a sight the regulars can’t handle A disgrace to the sensible ones But the worrywart still worries Pleading for help from anyone
And then the worries start to spread Like a disease that infects the mind Although the worrier means no harm The repercussions are still unkind
Then more worrywarts abound Born of dread and social fear And life becomes a disastrous mess As the worries fill every ear
From coast to coast and sea to sea The endless cycle spreads And now we’re all just worriers Wishing we were dead
© 2023 Michelle Cook
*The drawing is my own attempt at creating a worried warthog. I wanted to do something silly for this one and make it as unrealistic and absurd as possible. So if you haven’t laughed yet, I guess I’ve failed miserably. But if you’re at least smiling and shaking your head in disbelief, then I guess I’m doing alright. 😉 ~M
There’s a doorway to destruction;. it seems to find me every day; I take different paths to avoid it and look for the merrier way
There’s also a doorway to delight; it finds me less than other doors; oh, but when it does find me, I’m sent up a hundred floors!
There’s a doorway to regret and another that opens to grief; thankfully, neither stays open long, so that’s quite a relief.
There’s also a doorway to peace and another that leads to fun; both are best enjoyed walking through with a bit of sun.
My favorite door of all is the one that leads to love, but I have to be open to finding it, sometimes needing a little shove.
There’s a doorway to adventure, one that I look for every day, and when I eventually find it, It’s like being on holiday.
Some doors are pretty, and others I’m afraid to touch, but those that are welcoming always mean so much.
I’m excited yet cautious to see where most of them go; I know if I’m too afraid to open one, I’ll never really know.
The right door for me might be the wrong door for you; I guess none of us will ever know until we’ve opened quite a few.
I’m grateful for so many choices and the opportunities to succeed; I hope you find your door today, the one you really need.
© 2022 Michelle Cook
Slaves to oppression Can anyone understand? Pompous groups prevail
© 2021 Michelle Cook
Downtrodden doozies and winded waxers
Do you ever just wish
You could take back what you said
And every moment after
Is something that you dread
All those regretful words
Left hanging in the air
Fills you with affliction
Cause you really do care
But something made you do it
Spew your words of hate
A bunch of nasty nonsense
If only you could relegate
Time is the only cure
Likely to save your from your demise
Your only hope left
Is that the memory fades and dies
© 2019 Michelle Cook
My confidence in everything
Often waxes and wanes
Doubt sneaks right in
Trying to take over my brain
I tell myself I’m being silly
But then again maybe I’m not
And perhaps everything I’m doing
Is actually all for naught
And it’s during days like these
That l feel so uneasy
And the more I start to think
The more I get quite queasy
Skepticism is a word
My mind should just forget
Because it likes to stir up trouble
And leave me with regret
I know I shouldn’t let my dubiousness
Get the better of me
But sometimes it’s so hard
With a future we can’t see
Lack of faith in everything
Has always been my trouble
And because I’ll likely never change
I know I’ll always struggle
But I’m not the only one with scruples
And so I try to disregard my concerns
I just need to be patient and wait
For my confidence to return
© 2018 Michelle Cook