We wear our days like well-pressed clothes, while underneath darkness flows. A worry, ache, or quiet dread, that lives unseen, unshared, unsaid. We learn to smile and say, "I'm fine," we always say that practised line. We keep our storms tucked out of sight, and say "We’re fine”, "Yeh, I'm alright.” We do not share what’s in our heads, we fear what others think instead. We mask it all, and keep it hidden, with sense and logic overridden. But secrets kept too long can grow they harden into walls (I know), and shut out those who hold us dear, till loneliness is all we feel. But FLOW for ALL was built to say: “You do not have to hide away”. Here, names can hide, and masks can fall, our doors are open, safe, for all. No judgement waits in any way. We welcome what you have to say. A space to speak, a space to hear, our ears to listen we’re always near. When we share our thoughts in FLOW, our problems lighten; this I know. And every story bravely told, makes room for others to unfold. So if you're holding something tight, know FLOW’s a place to bring you light. Please don’t face things on your own, FLOW is here; you're not alone. Thank you to our growing FLOW community Please know that you all make such a difference to others

Just inside my mind it lives, hiding from all others. In a dark and secret hallway with pictures of my brothers. Silently attacking me and my battle-weary boxes. Swarming my defences like unseen covert forces. Its name is “Retribution”, and it’s never going to leave, It’s always finding nightmares; there is no kind reprieve. It comes for me more often now; it seems to know I’m weaker. It’s calling for its helper, the one they call the reaper. Therapy and medicine won’t work upon my demons. They easily ignite my darkest burning beacons. As this silent serpent overwhelms my safest thinking, It breaks my peace and sleep, and soon it has me sinking. It’s born from many moments, so many wounds still bleeding. Loss, and love, and guilt and sin relentlessly keep feeding. Triggers from some movies, from sounds and smells abound. They feed my demons daily, so peace cannot be found. But here in FLOW I find like-minded souls comparing. Their feelings, pain and challenges, and everybody caring. By sharing all our writing, and feelings raw and dark. We help strangers manage through our honest, brave remarks. So go and tell the world today, the lost, the hurt, the lonely. We all support each other, and that I promise firmly. FLOW is here for everyone, no barriers or judgment. Just honesty, community, and a literary self-treatment. Thank you to everyone who shares here in FLOW, and to all the volunteer moderators and admins (Spread the word to the world) 🙏

I walk where others could not tread, with silent names inside my head. The roll call echoes, one by one, while I still wake to greet the sun. This hollow guilt, so cold and deep, disturbs the hours meant for sleep. No medal fills the empty space, where loss has carved its hate. If only fate had turned its hand, shifted footprints in the sand. Perhaps we’d laugh as we once knew, but here I am, the “lucky few”. Yet peace, I know, must start within, beyond the grief, beyond the din. To live with honour, not despair, and carry them through love and care. Goodnight, my friends, goodnight, sleep well. At last, my words my story tells. I miss you all and mourn your loss, but that must always be my cross. For all those carrying the survivors cross, Live for all those you lost, Make them proud.

Our demons don’t knock before they call, They wait in silence, hidden from all. A scent, a sound, a place, just doors That open many waiting sores. There is no cure that makes it cease, No single path that gives us peace. Instead, we learn some ways to cope, With effort, strength, faith, and hope. We owe it to the ones so near, who hold our hands through every fear. Their patience, love, and care for all, With no thanks expected, no fuss at all. To our blue light heroes, thank you all, You’ve answered all my frightened calls. A Samaritan’s voice, a friend so true, Brings hope to hearts like me and you. Mental health is our new war, We hold back demons at each door But you all help us get back up, For you, and you, we won’t give up. This poem is written in thanks for all of you, blue light heroes, and you Samaritans, who answer our calls. No matter how much we challenge your helping hands, please know we are forever in your debt. And for all you listeners in the Samaritans, thank you, bless you, know that you save so many of us.

This is a Poem I wrote for my wife on our anniversary because I forgot to get a card. Turned out to be the best this I did, because I got express my feeling for her in a way I never had before; I forgot to get a card this year and that I may regret But all the things you do for me I never will forget The way you remind me when I forget to take my needed meds The way you lightly hook my arm when I regularly forget The way you look into my eyes when something hits a nerve The way you kiss me on my cheek when I often don't deserve The way you hold my hand as if to say I'm here The way you talk to me on the phone to say "I miss you cos your not here. All these things I love about you, and many, many more So always know I'll love you now and will for ever more These things I mean to say to you, but often find it hard But this year was so very easy, because I forgot a card. Happy Anniversary darling xxx

I have no stories to tell you Nor victories to recall No pictures of my daring deeds Or accolades on my wall But after serving 39 years and more I fight most every night With the battles that go on in my head That gives me sleepless nights Being part of the big Green Machine With Comrades all around Knowing that someone's always there If answers cant be found I miss these times so very much with each breath I take And every night when the battle starts I lay there wide awake The life I lead is wonderful with loved ones all around But there are times when I feel alone with people all around I try to overcome these thoughts with humour and a drink But mostly this just makes me worse and my moral slowly sinks It's lonely being a veteran, with no comrades all around No one to laugh and joke with, no familiar military sounds But we were taught to mask our feelings, and to soldier on No one likes a SSAFA case, pick up your kit, crack on The days, the weeks, the months go by, and time just gathers pace. But I cant help just wishing I was back in my Happy Place Those days are long gone now, and comrades have moved on And I just sit and reminisce, when this old warrior was strong.

Darcey A very sad day, grief beyond measure I lost my Pal, ‘’Darcey” my Treasure The time had come to end her fight A time to do what I knew was right A reluctant act, but do it I must The proper way to repay her trust A terrible decision, it could make you cry Is She up there watching from the sky? 2 Mill Close is not what it ought The Sad thing is its one dog short A treasure to the very end Memorable times with my faithful friend “Darcey” R.I.P

Flowing from the Tower’s wounded walls Forgotten names in sacred halls Remember the Blitz & wartime fears Poppies prompting loved ones tears Striking sights Poppies pour Across the lawn by the White Tower Door Blood Red Poppies form a flowing Ripple From the wounded wall our hearts they cripple Forming a crater of crimson Red Loved ones lost, Forever Dead At home and abroad in foreign Parts Long remembered in caring hearts May they rest in peace David Killelay (Forces Poetry)

We were born under the same sun, you and I, Although we look not alike. Your skin is dark and mine is light. We pray to different gods, we speak not the same, but love knows no borders, and we play the same game. With laughter and kindness, we bridge every gap, and in this wonderful life, we follow the same map. For every heartbeat echoes, a rhythm so true, In the dance of existence, I stand here with you. With colours and cultures, we weave our own thread, Together we rise, where compassion is spread. So let’s celebrate our differences, let’s open our eyes, for beneath all our layers, the same spirit lies. Bound by our stories, our dreams intertwined, In the garden of humanity, true peace we will find.

Sinuous in my silk gown, I slip seamlessly though the enveloping white mist, its droplets, glinting like diamonds, caught in the tendrils of my hair. The mist is ice cold, alive and swirling and I am flung around like spun sugar. Scarlet streams of blood, leave my body and my breath is severed from its roots, as a lone tree is felled by lightening. A haunting stillness, a calm, the storm dies, all colour is drained away, as I am drained into an accepting peace, to a simpler existence of where I need to be. My wounds healed.

Let them lie where they fell when the gales ripped them from their ancient birth; fractured roots exposed, like nerve endings. Let them lie where they fell a rest for a weary walker and a scramble and leap for a frisky tongue lolling dog; a seat for lovers. Let them lie where they fell supporting breathing life of burrowing beetles, centipedes and beavering woodlice; a hollow for a foraging fox. Let them lie where they fell majestic monoliths between between two worlds; of mycelium and fruiting fungi, wind borne spores re-colonising. a testament to growing youth.

There’s an old nest in the hedge, forgotten, deserted. It rests in criss-cross privet, a sculptural memorial of eggs cracking, hatching, new life out of dead twigs, dried moss and lifeless grass. The breath left it long ago. A gaping silence.

I’m thirty now, and words still bloom like flowers lighting every room My notebook sits beside my bed To capture thoughts, dreams, and threads Poetry grows from many things the happy, the sad, the heart that sings From all of life and daily battles My words, my sabre, hear them rattle I write because some feelings stay Too deep for speech, too bright for day Each verse becomes a door, a key A way to show the hidden me

To all of the mothers upstairs in the clouds, Your daughters and sons shout “Hi’ really loud. We know you’re not here since that day you passed, but the love in our hearts will forever last. Some still buy cards and flowers today, and place them by pictures and smile through the day. Each time we pass them, new memories stir, and we smile yet again for our mother upstairs. We sit with your grandkids and talk about nan, we laugh when we see “that look” when we can. It makes us feel nice that you’re part of this day, on the day for all mothers, here or away. And later this evening, when the day turns to night, you’re still not forgotten; we hold you so tight. We sit, and we think of so many things, the sound of your voice as we look at your rings. Now let’s make a deal, and neither be sad. Let’s love all the memories that all of us have. Remember the love, the laughs and the smiles, and celebrate Mums with love and with style. So now off to bed, for sleep and some rest, to reflect on memories, some of our best. Your care and your love and your sacrifice too, as that is what made us, now that’s what we do. Blow out the candles and turn off the lights. Look up to the clouds and say your goodnights. We send all of our love and blow kisses too. Goodnight to you, Mum, and love to you too. For all the Mums on Mother’s Day who are no longer with us. ❤️

As I sit and drink my coffee today, I hear many things that passersby say. They’re often unhappy and talking of those, who cause so much pain at work as they go. I hear of people, quite senior as well, who make people’s lives a living hell. Bullies, liars, and those who don’t care, they just want their way, whether right or unfair. The shouter, the bully, the “do as I say”. They’re all so destructive, that’s just not the way. So step up and be counted, use truth all the time. Make care, trust, and listening your constant pastime. I think of our programmes that cover all this. Emotional intelligence and trust, and such bliss. Psychological safety and work cultures, too. Such things make workplaces far nicer (it’s true). We talk about values and things we hold dear. About speaking out freely without any fear. We need to hear what everyone thinks. Or watch progress and profits go right down the sink. Welcome opinions from everybody. Dare to be honest, step up, and see. Do the right thing, it’s what we all must do. As if not me, or you, then who? So leaders and managers, please hear what I mean. Talk to your people, don’t leave them unseen. Listen, take action, and let them all see. Your care for people is a priority. “Trust is all about the consistency of reliability.” Mac Macdonald - (LAPD Solutions) (Feel free to share this with anyone/anywhere)

These lyrics are from the song "I'm not fine", by Telford Sounds, which can be listened to on YouTube by clicking this link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4Q5tu491Jo  [Verse 1] He said, "Long week" But it’d been a long year Holding it together With a grin and a beer Sat on my tailgate Staring at his shoes Said, "All good, man" But his eyes said, "Ain’t the truth" [Pre-Chorus] We were raised to tape it up Shake it off and walk it back inside But that weight don’t disappear It just digs in deeper when we hide [Chorus] So don’t just say, "I’m fine" When you’re breaking on the inside You ain’t weak for needing A shoulder and some time We’re all just men with heavy hearts Trying to carry our own sky So brother, take my hand We can stand in the same storm, same night Around here, "I’m fine" don’t have to be a lie [Verse 2] He said, "Man, I feel crazy ’Cause it don’t look bad on paper" Good job, good kids Still he’d vanish in the vapor I said, "I get those thoughts too They don’t make you less of a man" Sometimes the bravest thing Is just saying, "I need a hand" [Pre-Chorus] We don’t have to tough it out Till the wheels fall off, sparks fly We can call each other up Before the bottle runs dry [Chorus] So don’t just say, "I’m fine" When you’re breaking on the inside You ain’t weak for needing A shoulder and some time We’re all just men with heavy hearts Trying to carry our own sky So brother, take my hand We can stand in the same storm, same night Around here, "I’m fine" don’t have to be a lie [Bridge] Yeah, it takes guts to tell the truth To say, "I’m scared this might be it" But I’d rather hear you shaking Than be talking to regret We’re not meant to fight these shadows As a one-man battle line So lean on me, I’ll lean on you Till the morning hits the pines (oh yeah) [Chorus] So don’t just say, "I’m fine" When you’re breaking on the inside You ain’t weak for needing A shoulder and some time We’re all just men with heavy hearts Trying to carry our own sky So brothers, raise your hands We can stand in the same storm, same night ’Cause out here, "I’m not fine" Is how we start to be all right Yeah, together, "I’m not fine" Is how we start to be all right

Leaders, managers, teams, and colleagues, don’t become those silent bodies. Don’t see things from just your lens, see others’ perspectives, more like friends. Walk two moons in their shoes first, See their world and feel their thirst. What makes them tick and what does not, If you don’t know, ask them what. How can you show you really care? If they don’t believe you’re really there. For all your colleagues, no matter who, lead by example in all you do. Before you judge all those you lead, manage/help through all your deeds. Step softly in their footprints first. See in what they are immersed. Try to lift what they lift daily. Their challenges: how they feel, really. See their world and feel their why. Don’t silence voices or stifle cries. Work is nicer, easier too, when you see me, and I see you. Be the one they want to follow. Sow the seeds for our tomorrow. Share your vulnerabilities. Talk, relate, and then you’ll see. Our Moccasin Approach can create, a culture that is truly great. If you look closely, truly care. Listen to them (will you dare)? Then in time, you’ll hear the click, of truly great relationships. Wear their moccasins (just two moons). Learn their music, hear their tunes. Walk and talk, and listen well, and each will follow you through hell. By Mac Macdonald of LAPD Solutions Ltd

(For My Friend Tim) “Friend” is a word that we use every day. We talk of a friend and have plenty to say. Well, this is my rhyme for this friend of mine. And no better friend will you ever find. When I think of Tim and my memories dear, it often involves the hill and some beers. We’d walk through Betws to the stables and more, I can picture us now, not old and not sore. We’d talk about this and then about that. We’d put the world right, from where we were sat. We’d entertain folks with a story or two. Or the fact that I chose to never wear shoes. But through all the banter and shenanigans, we two would chat about life and such things. We’d part and meet each time with a grin, and pick right on up with our understanding. When he told me his fate, I was upset and crying. I was angry and sad; my friend was now dying. But he and his ways were the calmness for me. We talked, and we smiled, and then I could see. He’d thought long and hard as a dying man does, and he’d made his peace; there was no need to fuss. Gerry and Rosie had brought him back home, and there in the borders his spirit could roam. We knew he was leaving; he’d made all his plans. He’d seen all his loved ones and shaken our hands. He’d hugged so many with love and affection. His eyes full of love, his smile my redemption. And now that he’s up there on those fluffy clouds. He’ll never be gone; it won’t be allowed. He’ll be there when I drink, laugh, fight or cry. And he’d better be there when I too, must die. So come all and join me in praise of my friend. Send love and big hugs that we’ll never let end. Raise glasses and cheer for a mountain of men. Until we meet upstairs for beers once again. This poem is dedicated to Tim’s memory and to Gerry and Rosie for the love and care they gave Tim for so long. There are not enough words in the world to thank you both for what you have given and done for Tim.