Activity
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michae1 shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months ago
Happy 4-20
Mary Jane got me ohh so high,
Your genetics done changed my life.
I thank God to this very day, for
Another peaceful night, for word play.
You’ve done evolved my DNA.
Oh how I love your,
Potent indica dominant strains.
Sparks the receptors, as I search
To put these words in place.
Oh how I love your vibrant fragrance.
I love how help me through,
The stressful day’s.
Got neurons flooding
My brain. Looking for and
Connecting different things to say,
You spark my imagination.
Opening up a variation of
Ways. When I was hurt
You helped me innovate.
Had to do this for a special occasion.
Was built off some chronic
Mixed in with a Lil pain.
A different meaning
For “chronic pain”.
Might have to get a prescription
Just to keep me sane.
Had to celebrate your holiday.
Happy 4-20 it’s a special day.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Michael, this is a very clever piece.It is so interesting all the benefits they are realizing now that comes from CBD! Thank you or sharing your creativity with us!
LaurenWrite me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Thank you, and yes it is amazing to learn the medical benefits from it.
The Gonzaga university has this new class available for students or even to the public. It’s a class that allows you to smoke cannabis and study the medical benefits from it.cash only no government assistance. Me personally I think it’s amazing to allows this to happen.Write me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Benjamin Fuller shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months ago
Divine Wind of Inspiration
This life… is but a vapor… without a second thought you’d capture the moment by taking a pen to your wrist…
And letting your heart bleed out on the paper….
Inspiration, devastation, any other proclamation…
Yet trying to write now just feels like forced dedication…
What happened to that fire? That desire? It’s like our pen has dried up, and the situations dire
What happened to the endless words rattling around that drove us to the brink of insanity?
What happened to the ability to tug at the heartstrings of humanity?
People used to say that what we wrote felt so real…
But it’s because your words expressed our heart unsealed…
All our pain, all our anguish,
Every unfulfilled wish
Even as we traversed from glory to glory,
Your words expressed our story
Yet stressed here I am
Trying to string together words that don’t mean a damn thing
There’s no voice, there’s no heart…
How can I read what I write now, and try to say that it’s art?
Posting poems from the past, but how long can that last?
I am not you, and I fear that our time together is through…
Like how were you able to write an entire poem from being hit by a droplet of dew?
You could put one hundred and ten poems inside of a book
All to tell one story, simply from its tones alone;
All our highs and our lows
Our joys, and our woes…
But I’m sitting here now like, “is this as far as it goes?”
Have I nothing more than this?
Here I stand at my precipice
Grasping at the wind beyond my reach
With eyes like an ocean, til they burn red
Rivers of dread flow, as I shake and I quiver
Each drop crashes like a tsunami atop this wilted rose I hold in my hand
The petals have been washed away… no beauty remains
Only the thorns buried beneath my flesh, tearing at my very soul
I never would’ve thought writing so much could take such a toll
To break through, I know not what I need
My heart… has run out of blood to bleed…
There’s no path ahead…
Nothing to say that I haven’t already said…
Here I stand at the ledge… ready to lunge…
Ready to take that fateful plunge…
Embracing the free fall…
As I give up on writing anything at all…But yet in this moment the wind gives its gust
With a gentle whisper it tells me, “trust”
“Walk by faith and not by sight.
There’s no reason for you to be filled with fright.
Take the step and be full of delight.
Harken unto Me, and what I declare.
For together we will dance across the air.
The words that have been shrouded in the clouds will again shine their light.
The voice you seek will soon echo aloud.
Sending ripples, causing waves,
Causing dead bones to rattle in their graves.
Testifying of the One by whom mankind shall be saved.
This isn’t the end of your story.
For I have chosen you to write of Our coming glory.”Lo! That mercy would look upon my tired eyes
That the winds of heaven would hear my frustrated cries
With no blood left to bleed…
No might, nor power left within myself to carry me through this hour
But by Thy Spirit, I will continue to fight
By Thy Spirit I will continue to write for any who shall hear it
For Thy testimony is my delight
Lo! This shall not be my end
I’m trusting that higher yet I shall ascend
So let ye joyful trumpets sound in celebration
For the shackles and chains of this writer’s block I refuse to succumb
Yay! I say I shall be unbound
I’ll let this Spirit fueled heart beat like a drum of liberation
Pounding with a “bum-bum-de-bum”
This burning sensation shut-up deep in my bones;
Words yet without form… groaning’s waiting to be born
As the tumultuous storm clouds clear… their image draws near…
I can see them…
At last…
I am free…
This weightlessness…
Unburdened by stress…
Yes… I can feel it deep in my core…
If I take this step… I know I shall soar
I shall waltz on the wind, as a sparrow in the daytime
As a spider with its web, I’ll weave these words into rhymes
I’ll mold them into the most lustrous silk
And their taste shall be sweeter than honey and more nutritious than milk
No longer shall I live in fear that I’ll never be the writer you were again
The rose petals of this pen will bloom once more
And now I sit in anticipation to see what creations are in store…
Indeed… this blocks been broken through
For my passions been born anewSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Benjamin! I am so glad you didn’t let your self-doubt stick around and you realized your power, your voice and the greatness that lies within you. Never lose sign of your magic. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
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taysleatherlace shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months ago
TIMES
Dear Unsealers,
I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote about Time and how we spend our time. At the end of time, what will others remember? I originally started this piece in 2021 & finished in 2023, Taylor Vance.We have GOOD times
We have BAD times
We have SAD times
We have MAD times
We have GLAD times
We have HARD times & we have felt like time wasn’t on our side.
We have had times of JOY & we have wished that we could avoid a certain time.
We have FOUGHT at times & CRIED at times
We have HIDDEN at times & SHINED at times
There has been times I wish we never had
There has been times we can never take back
There has been times we will never get back
There has been times we talked shit & times we have been up shits creek. And GOD knows we have never been on TIME!!! But I would never rewind time, for it’s only been a short time we have had together, & it’s only going to get better in due time.
For all the hard times we weathered past, present, or future, as we expected.
For the rest of our time, we will make the best of our time to love one another until we have NO more time, while we wait, our story will continue, so in the end, we know we didn’t make a complete mess of our time.
Now I ask you to take a little time to remember how you use your time. Because all you get in this life is TIME & CHOICES, my advice to you is to be wise with both. At the end of time, we are to have No regrets, No second chances, for there will be No time to look back. Because at that time, when our hourglass has finally run out of sand, we can’t flip it over and start again. So what will the ones we leave behind remember of OUR TIME?
Written by: Taylor Vance 2-2023Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Aww Taylor, If you can be a peace with the role of time in our life, I feel like you conquered life in a way most never will. This piece is so wise and so true. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 1 weeks ago
Exhaustion
I’m exhausted but not that lack of 8 hrs of sleep exhausted.
I’m exhausted from putting peoples needs first.
I’m exhausted from checking in with people that don’t check in with me.
I’m exhausted from putting in the work and everyone else just goes on with life.
I’m exhausted from feeling their emotions and suppressing my own.
I’m exhausted and it’s not from the lack of sleep exhausted.
I want to feel alive.
I want to feel refreshed.
I want to feel my own emotions.
Care for my own needs.
I want to escape the burnt stage of life and capture the awareness of the day.
I’m exhausted from being exhausted!
When will I breathe again?
That is the question!Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Are you familiar with Marianne Williamson s “out deepest fear”? Or Ernest Henley’s “Invictus” ?
I find them comforting when I too, experience feeling burned out from how agreeable of a person I can be at the cost of my own needs. Hope it resonates with you. 💚Write me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Aww Heather, my hope for you is that you focus on only leaning into people and places that make you feel alive instead of exhausted. Sending lots and lots of hugs. <3 Lauren
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 2 weeks ago
Growth Looks Good
Do you not see how strong you are?
How worthy you are?
How loved you are?All those sleepless nights prepared you for the best sleeps of your life.
Those uncomfortable mirror talks set you up for those beautiful reflection affirmations.
Those in and out acquaintances part of your life were just props to what led you to today.The most strongest, worthiest, and lovable woman the Universe could have!
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I totally agree! Sometimes the most challenging points in our lives are just preparing us for all of the good that is to come. ♥
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Jillian Padgett shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 2 weeks ago
Rejecting Love
Falling in love ought not be such a terrifying act
Is it as daunting for you as it is for me
I sit in wonder what my life would be
Minus all the heartbreak and perpetual agony
Would I be the type to trust “I love you”
Would I be the type to trust at all
If only I’d been shown
If only the words “I love you” came from those already grownSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Love is different for everyone. Once you find what works for you and what you need, it will become easier to recognize the love that has always been all around you ♥
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Pretty Dee shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 2 weeks ago
Eye You
Eye see you
Do you see me?
Soul to soul
Yet oceans away.Is it weird
To not only ask
For one more night—
But for you to stay?They say love lasts for a lifetime,
But every minute apart
Feels like you’re eons away.Eye see you.
Eye see the star you are.
I see the parts of your soul
You try to hide.Could it be
That you are my soul tribe?
Or maybe my mate…
Either way it goes,
This union feels divinely great—
Almost as if it was fate.Bashert.
Eye see you.
Soul to soul.
Fated love so true.
Eye see you.Bashert, my love,
For you is destined to be.⸻
My soul searches for you,
But eye cannot find
Where you are hiding…Some days I am rain.
Other days, I am earth.
Some days I am air.
Other days, I am fire.I scorch new paths to rebirth.
But will you still love me the same
On days when I can’t flow like water—
When I bring storms, lightning, and rain?I might blow my fuse and explode,
Blowing like wind…But the river of my love is ever flowing
Into oceans of understanding,
Deeper than the cosmos—
The great gift of knowing.That you are my Baz, and eye you.
My soul sees your soul,
As the light of this
Divine union shines through.Bashert, my love—Bashert.
For the Divine One
Designed me just for you.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Aww this is beautiful. Did you know Bashert is a Jewish word? I have heard my grandparents say it! Whether you found your person or not, I feel like there is a pull on our hearts – a knowing that our heart is connecting to another person’s heart. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. I have so missed you and your…read more
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Yes! It’s a wild, bizarre story about how it came to me because my brain surprises me everyday lol. I haven’t found my person, but I drew inspiration from knowing that it exists and will come.
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Also, I am going to feature this piece in today’s newsletter :).
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This is beautiful! I’m so happy you have found someone you have such a strong, passionate connection with. ♥
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Thank you I appreciate it. I am actually single but I still remain hopeful for love
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Ruth Liew shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago
Being Alive
Are our bodies the amazing external shelter
Of the fascinating machinery
That makes the true existence of the psyche possible?
Without this body, this “me”
You cannot know or share any of my thoughts
And that would be the tragedy at hand, soon enough;
So thus,
As long as my mind is held in this body
I will love it and feed it
And take it on walks
And give it warm baths
And tuck it to bed cozy
And I hope you can do the same
In your own safe housing of your soul
So I can hear your sacred thoughts as well,
That only you can speak.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Ruth, this is such a beautiful interpretation. We must be kind to ourselves and take care of our bodies in order to live the life we all deserve. ☻
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago
Later Love From Me
Here I thought you were “the one” with what was programmed from within.
Walking life without you seemed so numb at the time.
Breathing different air than you set for sleepless nights.
I’m so glad you were not “the one.”
My programs from within have switched from fantasy to reality.
Walking life without you has defrosted in the most warmest ways.
Breathing different air from you
has given me better nights of sleep.
The weighted blanket type of sleep.
Here I thought you and I would be the forever type.
Boy, was that such hype.
I’m so glad forever was not for this flight.
Here I thought I’d be together with you, the “love of my life.”
Not knowing that love would be with me years after the blue.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Heather, I’m happy you decided to not settle for something that wasn’t right for you. I’m sure it was tough, but you got through it and now you know what you want and need in a person.
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 3 weeks ago
Possibilities
Maybe one day we meet back up.
May it be in a store buying that day’s outfit for a night out.
May it be at a local park catching Mama Nature’s beautiful sunrays.
May it be at a red light on our way to what consist of our busy lives.
Maybe. Just maybe, one day we will meet up and when we do, it’s as if nothing was new.
It was just as we left it.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Titus Armon shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 4 weeks ago
Hey Girl
Hey Girl
What’s Your Name
I See You Looking
What’s On Your Mind
I Like The Way You Think
Show Me More About You
Paint Me A Picture
I’m Here
Wondering
Waiting
ListeningSeemingly Beautiful
But I Don’t Know
Tell Me Your Favorite Song
Do You Go Out
Or Stay In And Read
I’m A Writer
In Need Of A Friend
You’re Patient
And I am
You’ve Noticed Me For Days
I’ve Noticed Too
I Wanna Shake Your Hand
It Looks Soft
How Do I Say
We Could Get Lifted
No Intentions
Just What’s MissingWhat Do You Say
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Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months, 4 weeks ago
Marco?
Where has my light gone
That used to twinkle in my eyes?
I feel like I don’t belong
In this body I call mine
I don’t know who I am anymore
Not even a single clue
Maybe I don’t know who I was before
It’s hard to know what’s true
Have I lost myself somehow?
Gone without a trace
Or was I never found
A vessel without a faceSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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I totally feel this at times, especially when life feels like it’s changing faster than I can control it. Take a deep breath, focus on the present, and love yourself. Sending hugs. Thank you for sharing. <3 Lauren
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Thank you for the kind words and for taking the time to read it.
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Ruth Liew shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 2 months, 4 weeks ago
Letter to my Ex
I am sorry that I couldn’t take all that is clay in you and throw it hard on some wheel
Turn a heavy mug with a nice curve
The kind everyone loves at craft fairsAnd I am sorry
That you couldn’t take all that’s sand in me
To apply mortar and water sufficiently
For a solid level
SlabMostly
I feel sorry
That our needs and lacks
Exceeded
Our expertise…. ….
With much regret I took from you
One ruby and two emeralds
Luckily you found tourmaline and garnets
To sustain you
And one diamond who is never disrespectful at the dinner tableI regret leaving our house of brick and mortar
For a trailer without a floor and a life without sleep
Honestly I was just glad to rest my head against a wall that didn’t shout
So I left anyway, regrets and all.Regretfully sorry,
The person that was Your Wife so long agoSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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wintersummers1322 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
Upside Down Sleeps
Make it make sense.
Blankets as sheets
Basements as comfort
Boxes of future life plans
Kept in stacks
Keep the c̶a̶s̶t̶l̶e̶ fortress walls—Growing.
Leave her be.
It too.
That as well.
The darkness
Closed doors
Backwards habits—Growing.
Attempts at the the ‘un-norm’
With a plea for a new normalcy of sorts..Eventually—
One day—
Someday.
In a̶…y̶o̶u̶r̶…her—
wildest of
Dreams.And all the untold stories—
From the Upside Down Sleeps.—xoxo
AVoting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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A, this is a lovely poem! What you call “upside down sleeps” makes me think of periods in our lives when we don’t know exactly where we are heading. We continue living our lives even though we are unsure of where it might take us, but we hope that one day we will find happiness. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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vizo2123 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
MISUNDERSTOOD PERSONA
Smile more they say
Why does she look mad
Is she okay
As they try to whisper walking past me
Unapproachable yet, I’m never approached
Oh face how you are perceived
Oh my face how you are mistaken as upset
Maybe I’m sad
Maybe I’m broken
Maybe I have a lot on my mind
Maybe I’m stressed
Maybe I’m none of the above & I am genuinely filled with Joy
You judge, but don’t ask me what is wrong
You assume I’m everything, but happy
Here’s the kicker I am okay
I am loved
I am in love with whom I am spending the rest of my life with
I am filled with joy
My facial expressions will tell you many things, but you won’t know till you ask
Get to know me before you mistakenly identify me as angryVoting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Vision, so many people are judged unfairly as being mean or angry simply because of their resting faces. In my experience, the people who look the meanest are often the sweetest. It is so important to get to know someone before you make assumptions. I am glad that you are filled with joy, and I hope others are able to see it! Thank you for sharing…read more
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Thank you for your kind words!!
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So nice to meet you in the Zoom meeting. You’re story inspired me on a way when I have those feelings I know I am not alone. Breathe in Breathe out slowly is what I do lately
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valaniece submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
the morning ciggy
A year has gone by.
Nothing much about my life has changed since the last time you saw me.
I still wake up at 9am to take my Vyvanse before going back to sleep again til the doctor
prescribed methamphetamines hit an hour later. At which point sleeping is no longer an option. Vyvanse is great because I can’t tell if I’m manic or depressed.I still make my coffee and let it sit in the press while I walk two blocks to the smoke shop
to bum a loosie. Only one. Last time you saw me I was quitting. I’m still quitting. I’m a regular.
They know my name. I don’t know theirs. Besides one guy who I eventually built friendly
rapport with despite my best efforts not to. He eventually moved back to Michigan.I was sad.
I still go to all the same spots I took you and all the rest to. Same coffee shops. Same
book shops. Same breakfast shops. Employees always remember my face but never who I was
with. Eventually they learn my name though none of them can ever pronounce it right. I hate it when I realize I’m observed as much as I observe. I hate being perceived. I assume they’re filling in the blanks with all the wrong tenses. I try to convince myself they’re randoms NPCs, but then the NPCs start interrogating me.Them: What’s your name?
I just tell them to call me Val. And so they call me Val. Most people call me Val. Because
most people can’t be bothered to figure out the other two syllables, six letters of my name and I can’t be bothered to sit them through a phonetics lesson. But I prefer it this way. They only know Val. They only perceive Val.I respond to Val. I reply to Val. I occasionally refer to myself as Val, but I don’t know a
Val. I only know Valaniece. You called me Val. Probably because you knew Val about as well as I did.Then they start asking more questions.
Them: How is your day?
Thus I start making assumptions about their perceptions of Val. She has no life. Where
are her friends? Does she ever go out? Does she have a job? Why is she always here at the same time? Who was that guy? Who was that other guy? Where did he go? Then I feel the need to unsolicitedly object to observations they likely never had.Me: Yeah I work a lot. I work from home. I’m always working. I’m a writer. So I write. I
only get one cigarette because if I buy a pack I smoke a pack also I’m always so busy but I love
working and enjoy the peace because also I’m busy. Also I love being single.I still light my ciggy with the stove because I still can’t find my lighter and don’t want to
buy a new one just in case I find the old one. I still wear the red hoodie you gave me with the
boxers from the other guy before whenever I smoke so I don’t stink up all my clothes. I still sit on my patio staring at the same view that looks indistinguishable from now and then. I still listen to the same playlist I made a year ago as I inhale my morning ciggy (the rest of the day is all downhill from here).1. Blurry Days – Camille Jansen
2. Unconscious Melody – Preoccupations
3. Contaminado – La Femme
4. Money Trees – Kendrick Lamar
5. Mirror Forever – Weyes BloodI know all of these songs mean nothing to you. To be honest, they’re starting to mean less
to me. Sometimes I wonder what songs remind you of me. Songs that somebody who wasn’t you had written for somebody that wasn’t me. I wonder what you got right. What you got wrong. I wonder if my mask slipped last time I slept in your arms. I wonder how much I got right about you. I think I saw more than you wanted me to. I wonder who Val was to you because she’s
nobody to me.Last I heard you were exactly where I found you. Last I heard you were exactly where I
left you. Last I heard you were planning on leaving yet I still know where to find you.
I smoke the same ciggys, read the same books, drink the same coffee, stuck in the same playlist I made a year ago. I’ve moved on but I still haven’t left. We’re creatures of comfort. Nothing ever changes and time never passes. Today is always yesterday. Tomorrow never came. Even though a year has gone by since the last time you saw me.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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This is absolutely amazing. Very relatable as well
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Valaniece, this is a beautiful and powerful piece. I love the line “I’ve moved on but I still haven’t left”. This simple declaration says so much in just a few words and perfectly describes the feeling of “moving” without really going anywhere. I enjoyed reading this and can relate to so much of what you said. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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alphatigress1314 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
Misunderstood Single Mother
Most days,
It’s difficult to breathe.
Shared parenting load? No.
Under the covers are his concerns,
Non-existent because of selfish intent.
Daily challenges a single mother endures,
Encapsulating her in stress,
Rendering restlessness, resentment, and rage.
Seeking solace starved from over speaking,
Often burying regrets
Only to excavate hidden truth,
Dreaming to be understood and heard.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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Kendra, being a single mother is tough! Though I haven’t experienced it, I’ve seen close friends deal with the fallout of broken relationships and marriages. To be a solid place to land for yourself and your children takes a lot of grit! I hope that one day you find someone who truly understands and appreciates all you do! Thank you for sharing…read more
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samig21 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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deflow submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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kpk submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem or letter about one way you feel misunderstood 3 months ago
P.B. Only
Peanut butter only for me
on my soft bread, between two slices.
Most, maybe eight out of ten,
want jam or jelly, but not me. Please,
please let the taste linger peanut butter
for as long as the flavor will last.Many might think I am extreme,
but I simply don’t want to distract
from the peanut butter taste.
Waste not your gelatinous jam.
I am not interested in soiling
my bread for the sake of fitting in.Crunchy or creamy are okay.
Crust on or crust cut off works well.
I prefer no drink to cleanse
my palate from peanut buttered bread.
So please just keep your jelly to yourself.
The rest of us will eat just fine.P.B. only for me today,
tomorrow, and the next day, as well.
We will get along just fine
in most all other aspects of our
life together, forever, my dear love.
Should you grant me this one politeness.Voting is open!
Voting ends June 23, 2025 11:59pm
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i love this it put a smile on my face. in writing i usually take on more weighty matters, so it was refreshing and enjoyable to read something so simply delightful.
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Thank you for your reply. I look forward to seeing your writing.
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KPK, there is something to be said for knowing what you like and staying loyal to it! Much to my disappointment, my son is allergic to peanuts, so I do not get to enjoy the delight that comes with peanut butter very often. I hope that you are able to enjoy this passion as often as you like! Thank you for sharing your experience!
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I wish you and your son well. Peanuts and peanut products are a terrible thing to do without.
This poem was inspired by a passionate argument by my brother in law who swears against jelly or jam on his peanut butter sandwiches.
I appreciate your reply and look forward to your writing.
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Kevin, love your metaphor of peanut butter and bread story. Nice to meet you in the Zoom meeting
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Thank you, Vicki. Nice to meet you, too. I appreciate your thoughts and enjoyed sharing time with you on Zoom. I hope to see more of your writing. -KPK
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See you on ZOOM soon!
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