My story

When I was asked about my life story I paused for a bit and thought of all the things I’ve done, but couldn’t think of a way to explain it.

At what part of your life did my story start is it a moment in life I done something that shocked me or was it a time when I done something I was proud of. I have a lot of stories I could tell about the things I’ve seen, things I’ve done, and things that are completely mad and unbelieveable.
But is travelling, experiences and fun things you have done that make your life story.

Sometimes I think about the battles I’ve had with myself and others, the trauma I’ve had like many others do, or when you have had to stay strong when everything is wrong.

I’m more proud of the stories I could if I wanted to tell about all the bad things I’ve overcome and all the challenges I’ve faced.
This would be me my story the things that made me the person I am today. I am happy and proud of all the amazing adventures I’ve had and am very lucky to have a lot but they are just short stories in a long life and will probably make another one tomorrow. I would love to hear someone say one day about a bad thing that changed their life’s not an all inclusive trip to the Maldives, But a heart felt emotional story that means so much to that person that u can feel their heart beat as they tell it, the story that takes you deep into someone’s life and makes you like them even more, that make you happy that they can tell you, that makes you feel the pain and joy as they say every word.

That is the story of a life it’s the stories that made you, the stories that made you strong, the stories that made you fight, the story that made you cry and the story that made you brave. The story of you and that’s the story I would right.

The story of your life …….

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Mother of Squalor

Andrew Chapman @AndyChapWriter

Mother of Squalor

She tipped her hat against the wind and squinted through the rain

Her life was a novella of pulp in a moonlit motion picture of class

Her high heels kicked through puddles that reflected street lights

The book in her bag was damp from intruding weather

Her coat held closed, her umbrella shielded her lipstick from the thunder

The lightning flashed, silhouetting her shadow against the passing cars

A busker stood against a wall emptying water from his guitar

A bottle of wine stood safe on her kitchen counter

The coke in her bag gave a clue to her hurried trot through the streets

The dwindling spring in her mind was racing to indulge some more

Men in pubs behind her spread rumours about her allure

Her legs were food for their hormonal hunger

At last she arrived home and discarded her twisted umbrella in the garden

She fished for…

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The theory of love

Is love worth the sacrifice off all u know Is it worth losing ur beloved so

Is it worth the fight u will need to battle

Is it really worth all This hassle 
Love is one thing I will never undesrstand 

No matter how much u had a plan

My intelligence and IQ is larger than most the nation

So why do I fail to figure out this bizarre equation
Is it as simple as pure mathematics 

Or is it as hard as quantum physics

Is it an epidemic we will never solve

Like a larger than human puzzle to solve
Or is it the human mind that makes it hard

Take away the emotion is it really bizarre

Is it the feelings that hide the truth

In that case it’s an imigma an illousion of solitude
In which case were fucked no matter how

Our human brain cannot hide what’s now

Emotion comes with feelings and thought 

So u cannot defeat this object that’s brought
Because to figure out and wonder why

U would have to delete one of three kinds 

And either one can’t work without the other two

So for my conclusion I will never know or cannot give u a clue
To love is to trust and believe it is true

And to stand by it until it surrenders you

Whatever u chose u cannot control

You cannot make sense of the wonder of the soul

A strangers touch

If someone asked me now if i would do it all again?

I would probably say yes even with all the pain

Because i like the person its made me become

Even the days i thought i was done

 

Its not till that day you look in someones eyes

And for me it was deano the one blinded eye guy

Who was busking on the streets watching all pass bye

When he saw my son in a state of cry

 

He sang a song i will never recall as he turned and smiled

I saw him then play on his guitar with all his might

My son danced so hard it brought me tears of delight

Because for several weeks i hadnt seen that in my child

 

All the gloom and stress our life had caused

For that moment deano made our life pause

He gave us a moment i will allways respect

That the last person you would  suspect gave a day i will never forget

 

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