The Beads and the Threads.....

My life is like a thread,
Holding together different beads,
The thread is made of feelings,
And decides on how the beads are going to cling.

Some are vibrant, and sharp.
Some seem exceptionally pretty,
Some I have lost already lost,
Some will cease to be with me.

The beads and the thread,
Make my life what it is,
Whether scorching suns will shine on me,
Or I will have the pleasures of a cool breeze.

There are wars of aggression,
Or sometimes, plain confusion,
There are moments of passion,
Or severe criticism.

Each thought, each act,
Unfolds a new chapter in my life,
A new beginning, or an old end,
A daughter, a sister, a mother, a wife.

Some chapters are long, others shorter,
Some tragic, others of love,
But are engraved in my heart,
The chapters and various stages.

The beads are the puppets,
The thread, binding scripts,
Somebody directs, maybe circumstances,
And I do the lipsings.

And trust me,
For I very well know,
That I am nothing more then,
Another bead, in another thread…..