I seem to be saying this a lot….sorry

Guys. I’m not blogging as frequently, which is bad. However, school and health must come first. Over the last week, I have been unable to write or type to a certain degree. This was due to a repetitive strain injury on my right hand. I had done too much writing as I was constantly doing past papers, writing notes and keeping up with my vivid imagination and it took its toll on my hand. Now, I am back but it is the Christmas¬†period. Holidays start soon and I have a play on next weekened, then new years and then exams. I am so busy, I barely have time to blog. But I shall endeavour to post at least once a week, hopefully, more and will do my best not to let you guys down.


Sorry again. ūüôā



Always there for me through thick and thin,

Supporting and cheering whether I lose or win,

telling me my dreams aren’t terrible, that I will succeed,

Giving me all the love and encouragement I need

And more, because you  know exactly what I need before I say,

And you try to help me through each day

You were the mediator during that phase,

When I argued with dad most days,

You always did what you could to make sure my clothes fit

And you made sure that dad liked it,

You listened and listen to my endless chatter about a boy band,

and when I’m needing help you always offer a hand,

brought me up, raised me well, taught me all I need to know,

More willing to say yes, not afraid to say no,

I hope you will be proud of the woman I’ll become,

I hope that I can be like my mum.


Turning away

I heard of more words that had been said,

More lies that have to run through my head,

people who said they cared but it was a lie,

Couldn’t wait to say hello, now the word on my lips is goodbye,

Read that I was not of this world and I know it’s true,

So many people being shallow, so many friendships blew,

Just because you chose to say those words, the ones that hurt,

Just because you treated me like dirt,

I won’t let it get to me anymore,

I won’t show you that my heart is bleeding and sore,

I’ll turn around show you that I can and I will,

Doesn’t matter how many dreams you kill,

No matter how many words exit your mouth,

Doesn’t matter anymore that our friendship went south.

I’ve forgiven you for setting me up that one time,

because I hurt now but I’ll be fine,

I know because I have friends who are real,

Friends who care about the way I feel,

And I will be strong for my sake,

I’ll tell you how I feel, cos I’m not fake.

I’m making a stand

I speak for those who have no voice,

I make a sound for those who make no noise.

I’m a voice for millions trapped in a terrible trade,

Used for money to be made.

I make a stand for those who cannot walk,

I say the words for those who cannot talk.

I open eyes to the torture that they go through,

I tell people about them, people like you.

I’m not the only one who is making a stand,

Many people are standing through the land,

Speaking for those who are silent but want to cry,

We make a hello out of a goodbye.

So as we take a step, join us in this stand against slavery,

Let’s give them freedom, show them they aren’t a commodity.

People aren’t a commodity

I was driving home from singing in Hampshire yesterday and I was thinking about famous singers. People who have everything, nice (debatable) clothes, tons of makeup, people to wait on them hand and foot……and then I thought of the people who actually don’t have clothes they can call their own. Their makeup, if they have any, is used to lure men in, and they do the waiting on hand and foot.

The comparison between the pop star and trafficked is phenomenal, and the difference between us, the normal people, and trafficked is just as phenomenal. We have the freedom to choose, we have the freedom to choose what we wear and what we do. We can get medical help, they can’t. They don’t choose what they can wear. They don’t get to choose what they do. They don’t get medical help. Because to the traffickers, they are a commodity, something that’s worth comes from how much they can be sold for.

People aren’t films. You can’t rent them for a night’s entertainment. They aren’t food. They can’t be bought to fulfil someone’s greed. People aren’t a commodity.


We are not of the world

Everyone runs, looking for something different,

Working hard day and night to seem intelligent.

Follow the ways of the world and you will fit in,

Do as they say, even if it is a sin.

But we are not of the world, we are of the Lord,

He came to earth, gave us a shield and a sword,

A helmet for our heads, a plate for our breast

He came to fight beside us, to give us rest.

Died on a cross so we can do,

All the things He wants us to

Without having to worry about the past,

Without having to worry about being first or last.

The world is in desperate need of someone to save,

Someone who’s willing to free the slave,

Our world is held captive by an angel who fell,

Dragged further and further down towards hell.

But sometimes someone fights, stands up for a friend,

So the chains can break and the sorrow can end.

Now let’s take a step, make a stand,

Ignore Satan, spread God’s love through this land.

Take a step

I started writing more and more, my pages were filled,

I managed to walk past the time where my dreams were killed,

Offered an apology to my idle hands, picked up the pen.

Connected it to my heart, was writing when,

I saw that one video about a man who wanted to end it all,

Heard that one story of a girl who wanted to take a fall.

With my pen, my paper and my heart,

I wrote a message to stop them falling apart.

Managed to get my head in a mess, then my writing had to end,

But I felt bad, there was still a message I had to send.

I took a break for an hour,

Then when I arrived home I wrote with words of power,

‘You are loved, He cares, you aren’t alone’

I wrote about stepping out whilst trying to save lives from the safety of my own home.

We need to take a step, be a salvation,

Because it’s those who step outside who change the nation.

So take a step with me, and I’ll take one with you,

And we can show the multitudes what is true.