Stories are to be told. And, my stories? Definitely.
It doesn’t matter when you were born-making intelligent choices is a bright thing to do!
We all carry our burdens. No one is spared! But what do we do with them?
When words die out and fade away...what will then make you stay?
Raise your hand if you have been though this
When it is night, messages can come from deep inside and around the darkness...
I sit and think, if such a world exists or is it just what dreams do.
Some people never doubt the power of their minds. Nor should you.
However many layers we mask our truths with, they peel off sooner or later.
Here, I talk about something we all suffer or make others suffer. *Chuckle!
Ever sat with a pen and paper, drawing circles, wishing you could write down the thoughts bubbling inside you? It is good for you- to write. I wished too...
A poem about taking tenuous steps towards what is ephemeral. Love. Is it?