My mind is in the midst of confusion,
Lost somewhere in the back of my head.
It has no owner, no home.
My mind is like a chest with no key,
A dog with no home,
A child with no mother.
My thoughts are stuck and cannot be released.
No one knows my muddled thoughts,
Just the body that holds them.
***
This is a poem that i wrote when i was 12. I loved literature when i was a child, and i still do. I had aspirations of becoming an author or poet, but i think although my life has progressed, i don't think my ability has so much. I struggle with writing a lot more than i used to, it doesn't come so easily. I think its most probably to do with my all consuming God consciousness, i fear that i will do myself (and him) a great disservice if i say the wrong things.
The poem is very poignant to me. The words hold true for so much of how i thought until i was about 21. I was very confused, but thought i knew it all. At the time, i knew there was a lot of sadness suffocating me, but thought it was a result of everyone else's failings rather than my own. I was very idealistic in my younger years, and i still am. Its a huge detriment to my very being, but i cant let go of it. If only idealistic dreams could come true. In fact they could... in an ideal world.
This poem no longer represents me. I no longer feel confused, or sad, muddled or stuck. I don't know it all, but i feel a little (in fact a lot) closer to knowing the truths in life. I would re-write this poem now (13 years later) as such....
***
My mind is settled and orderly,
Once it was lost, but now its found.
It is owned by me, and kept in it place, protected by my hijab.
My mind is like a chest whose key has been found,
A dog (once lost) who has again found its owner,
Like a child who has now grown and become a mother.
My thoughts are more fluid, i release some but hold on to others.
I try to portray some of my thoughts,
through my body and actions; my faith.

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