Pocketful of Trust
“Be careful who you trust,” Mother told me
a million times. “Bad company corrupts
good morals,” She’d say day after day. So
I left home at birth, wandered four short years
with a pocketful of trust squandered on
a well-meaning mother who spoke from the wrong
side of her mouth . . . as I say, not as do . . .
At forty, deep in debt, trust-broke, wishing
for a new start, a new adventure—
journey to walk; waiting for that magic
day I can walk out again, newborn, fresh,
hopeful and with a pocketful of trust.
David M Pitchford
18 April 2008
Filed under: poem, poems, poetry, self empowerment
I love this one. It spoke to an experience in my own life. Well wishes for future healing.
-Nicole
Thanks for dropping by, Nicole. Glad you found something that works for you. Thanks for commenting! It’s a very good thing to know others are touched in some way, and that we’re not all alone . . .
Hope your April rocks from here on out!
David
Ah, To begin with a New Born’s Mind all over again, would be Bliss. I am still picking up on those crumps of Trust that seem to have fallen through the hole in my Pocket. I stitched the hole but a new one keeps appearing. A hopeless chore… Whats gone was gone because it wasnt there to begin with but what was- Was always there.