Repose and Stress Reduction

I had a diary but he burnt it; Saying

'No record of wronging anymore'-

Had my own personal island once

'Til the dark waves ate at the shore.

I got myself a potters' wheel

Until he threw it to the ground-

I tried hiding in my secret fort

Before the walls tumbled down.

I tried to take up morning jogs

But he pushed, blocking the door-

I used to have a pet, though he

Let it out; Then Birdie was no more.

I tried some music on the radio

'Til he changed the classic station-

So I threw my hands in the air

And thus gave up on relaxation.

The pals I made at work or school

Got disgusted by my lack of voice-

They'd tried and failed to help me

Because in the end, I had my choice.

It took me a long and rocky road,

Full of dangers, toils and snares-

Before grace found a wretch like me

And in the end, I got me there.

On a sinking boat, with broken oars,

In weather Satan himself forbade-

It nevertheless became my shield…

Oh what a difference attitude made!