Maggie Watson's Blog, page 12

Our Fate

written March 2025

An arid desert where nothing grows.
Upon wastelands, we cannot make a home.
When roots remain underground despite love and care, we
must take our leave.
Without warmth, we, too, will die.
Within starkness, only desolation thrives.
Upon wastelands, troubled souls live their lives.
Why anyone would choose darkness over light
is not ours to question.
Some people prefer the frigid air of winter.
We cannot take away anyone’s pain,
nor should we lose ourselves trying.
A door slammed.
Or a locked gate indicates disdain.
There is no need to persist.
Under the weight of pain, all things crumble.
What we decide to do with the pieces is our fate.

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Published on March 09, 2025 11:16

Rise Up

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY

( May we know them and raise them)

Do you remember the shine of the
blade?
Can you recall the swish sound it
made before the first cut?
How much pain did you feel?
Did you want to die as the tears fell?
Behind closed doors, we fought to survive.
Now, it is time to thrive.
Withdraw the knife.
Dry your eyes.
Our history cannot be changed or erased,
but we should not hide.
Our past will not define who we are today.
For every scar that remains, let us frame
the pain it holds.
We have the power.
We shall rise.
And in time, the memory of that blade shall
fade.
Good fortune always favours the brave.

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Published on March 08, 2025 11:53

Time Stamp

(written March 2025)

A time stamp in red
poetry, my legacy
the words that I bleed.

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Published on March 06, 2025 11:41

After Rain Skies: The Global Anthology – A Powerful Collection of Voices Against Abuse and Violence, Releasing March 8, 2025 on Amazon.

WISHING YOU THE BEST OF SUCCESS WITH THIS PROJECT MICH!

THANK YOU FOR RAISING AWARENESS!

“Streets of Pain” is my own writing and a poem that is in “Pieces of Me”

With blisters on my feet, I walked streets of pain.

No sense of direction or notice of time.

Dead-ends.

Locked gates.

I heard your voice in the distance calling my name.

My pace was slow.

I was weary.

No one stopped to query if I was ok.

My mind was in disarray.

I was to blame.

It is I who must change.

Too young to know the rules of the game.

So I kept walking until I could walk no more.

Then I lay down on the road and let you goad me again.

Streets of pain,

where the victims have no name.

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Published on March 05, 2025 04:02

Cradled

written in response to Sadje’s #Whatdoyousee

Grounded by nature
Mother Earth keeps me safe
cradled in her womb

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Published on March 04, 2025 10:26

Beyond Windows

(written February 2025)

A troubled soul covers their windows

with sunglasses to hide their pain.

What lies beyond blackout blinds, who can say?

It is easy to make assumptions.

Most of us do that each day.

For the sake of humanity, never seek to

guess the cause of someone’s angst.

Pain takes many forms.

None is lesser or more.

We are all sisters and brothers.

The colour of our skin does not matter.

Behind windows, everyone has a story untold.

Some choose to remain that way to assuage their soul.

Whatever option we take, no one has the

right to question or blame.

Unless they have walked the history of our lives for

at least one day.

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Published on March 03, 2025 13:01

Balance

(written February 2025)

Life is a delicate balance.
A tightrope, walk across hellfire
before landing on a blanket of feathers.
Taught muscles urge us to be brave while
our minds resist change.
We expand, then contract.
It is far easier to stay safe.
Until the brute force of a catastrophe
jolts us back to life’s harsh realities.
We spend our waking hours worrying about
things that never happen until the shit hits the fan.
We must fight or flee.
Life is a balance.
Shades of grey will always exist.
What you resist will always persist.

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Published on March 01, 2025 12:20

Cora’s Quest by Lauren Scott

What Amazon says

Cora is a curious fawn who loves spending time with her parents. On one beautiful day, they take a stroll deep into the wilderness. They trot along on the trails, and Cora finds other animals fascinating. They skitter and fly around her with joyful purpose. Every unique sound catches her attention, stirring her curiosity to discover just where that sound came from. But suddenly her delightful family day takes a turn that begins to test the courage inside of her…

I have not read this book, because I have no little one’s, but it looks perfect for anyone who does have!

It has had amazing reviews already!

I am sharing for Lauren as she has been a lovely supportive friend to me during my time here, as have so many others.

BEST WISHES FOR CONTINUED SUCCESS LAUREN!

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Published on March 01, 2025 12:08

Futility

(written February 2025)

Futility has no point of circumference, only
a vast ocean of nothingness, a place
where very little makes sense.
Futility leaves me without energy while
my mind spins on an axis in constant disarray.
Futility finds me suspended from a rope with no hope
of change.
All things must move forward.
We can never retrace our steps.
When futility plays on repeat, press pause for a reality check.
If your heart is still beating, why are you stagnating until the
stench of death fills your throat?
You are not Dorothy.
There is no yellow brick road.
Futility will see you dressed in a white coat.
Don’t waste your life on futility until you run out of tomorrow’s.