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bfelix shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 13 hours, 18 minutes agoThe things we survive don’t make us the same
bfelixI used to think pain was a language we all spoke the same.
But then I met people who wore my wounds like armor, while I tried to turn mine into wings.
We had the same bruises in different places. The same stories told in different voices. We both knew the sound of a door slamming that wasn’t just a door but a warning. We both knew the silence that followed too well, the kind that didn’t mean peace, but punishment. And still, they walked out harder, sharper, more closed. I walked out with my palms open, hoping to catch light or rain or anything that felt like softness.
It’s wild how two people can survive the same fire and carry the heat in completely different ways. Some become flame themselves, burning anything that gets too close. Others spend the rest of their lives flinching at the smallest spark. I think about this a lot. How survival isn’t a shared destination but a thousand separate roads paved with choices, coping, timing, and whatever scraps of love we were lucky enough to find.
I used to believe trauma molded us like clay. That it pressed its fingers into us and that’s why we cracked the way we did. But maybe that’s only part of the truth. Maybe trauma is more like a pile of raw materials dumped at your feet. Grief like steel. Loneliness like stone. Rage like rope. You don’t choose the pile, but you do decide what to build. Some build prisons. Some build walls. Some build bridges to a self they’ve never met before.
For a long time, I tried to build silence. I thought if I didn’t speak about it, it would stop growing. But pain doesn’t work that way. Pain is a seed. If you don’t name it, it grows anyway, just deeper and darker, winding through your bloodline, waiting to bloom in someone else. I learned that the hard way.
Motherhood cracked something open in me that I didn’t even know was sealed shut. I remember holding my son for the first time and suddenly realizing that I wasn’t just responsible for his body, but for his story. His emotional blueprint. His inner voice. His sense of safety in the world. And it hit me like a wave I didn’t see coming. Everything I hadn’t healed might one day echo through him. Not because I wanted it to, but because unspoken pain finds its way. Always.
And that terrified me.
It also gave me purpose.
Now, when I choose to sit with my hurt instead of numbing it, I’m not just doing it for me. I’m doing it so my child doesn’t have to carry what was never his. I’m doing it so that love can feel like a resting place and not a battlefield. I’m doing it because someone in every bloodline has to decide that the story changes here.
And still, I wonder. Was this always the path? Was there a version of me, already written, already waiting? Or did I fight my way into her? Did I dig her out with every boundary I set, every truth I spoke, every time I looked my past in the face and said, I’m not going to let you win?
Sometimes I feel like my life has always been on the edge of something. On the edge of becoming. On the edge of breaking. Like I’ve been holding the pen with shaking hands, trying to write my name over a story that began before I ever had a voice. I think that’s what reclaiming your life really means. Not erasing what happened, but choosing how it’s remembered. How it’s used. How it ends.
Pain doesn’t make us the same. Neither does survival. I have seen people crumble under the weight of things I carried in silence. I have watched people laugh with joy after surviving storms that would’ve leveled me. There’s no ranking of pain, no chart for resilience. Only choices. Only outcomes. Only who we become after the fire.
I no longer look for meaning in the things that hurt me. Some things just hurt. But I do believe in the meaning I can create because I lived through them. I believe in turning pain into language. Into softness. Into understanding. Into legacy.
So no, the things we survive don’t make us the same.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe survival is the beginning of art. The place where we each pick up our broken pieces and say, this is what I’m making out of mine.
And maybe someone else will see it and think, I didn’t know you could build something beautiful out of that.
And maybe that’s how we save each other. -
Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 22 hours, 46 minutes agoSummertime Rolls
Oswald PerezDear Unsealers,
It’s the 20th of June.
In the Northern Hemisphere, today is the longest day of the year. And in the Southern Hemisphere, it’s the shortest day.
Though the exact moment where the earth’s rays are closest to the sun isn’t scheduled until 10:42PM tonight, it feels right to still welcome in the new season.
Ninety-four days are ahead under sunshine, blue skies and warm weather. Here’s to sea breezes, golden hour sunsets and moments spent in good company. The days will go by just as fast as they’ve arrived.
This is my welcome to the new season ahead…
When day turns to night
The sun’s rays are closest to earthA new season is upon us
The solstice, ushering in the summerThe longest day this year is here
First one, of ninety four to comeIt’s a blank slate so far
With space, wide open for infinite possibilityA time of year where the world slows down
After a hibernating winter and blossoming springSoaking up the warmth, the days will go by fast
Looking ahead to Iberia in the fall -
Darnel LaFrance shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 days, 14 hours agosome of you
yaisa’s husbandare your bodies
you are your skin
you are your thoughts and ideas
all the structure that comes with iti am in my body
i am in my skin
i have thoughts and ideas
all the chaos that comes with me -
Kara Kukovich shared a letter in the
To my younger self group 1 days, 16 hours agoDear Little Girl Blue
Kara KukovichDear little girl, so sad and blue.
Back then, you didn’t know what to do.
Your secret sat sunken in your core.
It festered like a swollen sore.
No wonder you failed to sail the skies, to soar.They said you’re mad, but it’s not true,
For you had a grim grief no one knew.
Tears flowed inside your tired soul,
‘Til death became your only goal.
Your heart grew old as living took its toll.Hope may seem too out of reach,
While victim of your elders’ breach,
But don’t give up, precious one.
Don’t make this your final run.
Someday you’ll find the sun.Once freed from the children’s cage,
You’ll turn this crumbled page,
Ready for the world to unfurl,
No longer just a sullen girl,
You’ll discover life’s hidden pearls.Today you sail the sordid seas.
Brave and bold you bring monsters to their knees.
Stronger now and in love with life.
You don’t back away from strife.
Who knows just where you’ll be
In the years we’re yet to see. -
Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 1 days, 17 hours agoSummer Blues
HeatherSummertime as a kid
was a beautiful time to be alive
Catching the sun rays amongst the face
while collecting the wrinkled water skin
from swimming all day
Running the hot pavement for a game
of tag or hide and seek
Bare feet walking amongst the cold
green grass eating the sweetest
popsicle treat
Melted juices rolling down
the little arms
Stomachs full of grilled meals and
intoxicated drinks
Laughter overflowing the atmosphere
Neighbors coming together
for a game or two of cards
Children invading the streets
with their bicycles and skateboards
Summertime as a kid
was a beautiful time to be alive -
Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Chasing Your Dreams group 2 days, 1 hours ago"A Vision for the Future: Dreams, Challenges, and Hope"
Samantha AnthonyDear Community,
Today I ask you a question that came to me this morning. I know this has probably hit you when you were growing up but I thought it was time to bring it back.My question was Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Okay, where I see myself in 5 years, you may ask, well, I see myself undecided. I’ve always had hopes and dreams to just make it day by day. I wanted to finish school, try for my degree in art, and pursue my writing. However, life had other plans. I had my first kid at 21, went through the struggles of taking care of a child on my own, ended up living on my own, and just trying to figure things out as I progressed. During my time, I honestly wish I could have done more, not gone down the road I did, and dropped out of high school or run myself ragged focusing on relationships, housing, or finding a job that I was comfortable with. So I guess what it comes down to is that in 5 years from now, I hope to see myself financially stable, make my passion for writing expand, hopefully find the right job for me, and I hope my partner and I will still be able to go strong together.
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Matthew Jablonsky shared a letter in the
Surviving Addiction group 2 days, 5 hours agoThe Gamble
Matthew L JablonskyWe may not do scratch-offs,
or play the “Pick 5”.
But every addict is a gambler,
Gambling with their lives.There’s no chips involved,
No minimum bet.
We play with our souls,
We wage our regret.Will this be the bag,
that gets you high?
Or is this the time,
you finally die?Time with your loved ones,
is in the pot.
Maybe you’ll win,
with this next shot!A free trip to jail,
for the rest of your life!
Just take a chance,
and roll the dice!Your family will leave,
unless you end this charade.
Ten to one?
I like those odds!So we take another hit,
we do another line.
“I bet they won’t leave,
just like last time.”Will I get an empty bag?
Will the rocks be salt?
Even if you lose,
It’s never your fault.The game was rigged!
The dealer’s a liar!
It’s all on them,
if you don’t get higher.Whether its cards in your hand,
or a needle in your vein,
we all find something,
that takes away the pain.There are no winners,
when you play with drugs and booze.
But gamblers don’t gamble to win,
Gamblers gamble to lose.“The Gamble”
-Matty Jablonsky -
Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Health, Wellness and Chronic Conditions group 2 days, 5 hours ago"An Open Letter to Health: Seeking a Break from the Struggles"
Samantha AnthonyDear Health,
Why have you forsaken me? Did you really have to bring more complicated issues my way? How would you feel if you woke up one morning and started to hurt in any way? It would be terrible, right? Exactly. Can’t you grant me just one day without needing a machine or medication to feel better?
You are just a part of the experience that can come and go, but you’re not the one who has to navigate life daily. You don’t know what I see and experience each day. I wish we could switch roles for once—let me make the health choices while you deal with the outside world. Don’t pretend for a moment that you wouldn’t break if things got too hard.
So, can you, for once, just give us a break? Or is that asking too much?
Signed,
Your Owner. -
Benjamin Fuller shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 days, 17 hours agoCanst Thou Hear Thy Sprit Weep
Benjamin M. FullerCanst thou hear thy spirit weep?
Bellowing from the depths of the deep
Below the realm where shadows creep
Unto the darkest depths, where there is no breadth
A bottomless pit, full of despair
Gasping for air… where your screams go unheard
An eternal dream, wondering how it occurred
All because you preferred to exalt thy sin
Because you chose not to halt thy ways
A rose who praised thy thorns within
Left to suffer His holy scorn…
A name scorched away by unending flame
Blotted out, because you chose your eternal lot
For you denied to follow the One who rose from the dead
Because you didn’t put Him first, ye shall suffer eternal dread
Now you thirst for but a drop of water
Begging for a chance to warn your father, mother, sons, and daughters
You denied His name and His ways, now you’re left… draped in your shame
There is no escape…
For from grace we fell
But yet grace He bestowed
He owed us nothing
Only that in Him we believe and follow
But apart from Him we have no hope but to grieve and wallow -
Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 2 days, 19 hours ago"Navigating the Fog of Confusion"
Samantha AnthonyDear Life,
I need your help. Lately, I’ve been feeling so confused that I struggle to explain it. Is there something wrong with me that I can’t see? I can stay motivated physically and mentally, but my mind feels blank. How can I move past the smoke and mirrors that people say surround me? Most of the time, all I see is my routine, my possessions, and my kids; nothing else seems to matter. I often feel backed into a corner when faced with questions, and I don’t know how to respond. I’m unsure how to process anything, work on what’s important, confront issues, or do things as a simple person would.
People ask me, “Is that all you want? Is it to do the same thing every day and be alone?” I’ve told myself that I crave company, but I’m uncertain if I can trust anyone ever again. I keep comparing potential partners to my past experiences, and it feels as if my negative thoughts replay painful memories, leaving me scared. Why can’t you lift this block from my mind and help me discover what I truly want? Why didn’t you give me the ability to recognize my mistakes and understand that my actions can hurt others? Please help me stop along the way before it’s too late.
I don’t want to be alone anymore. I realize that I’ve built walls around trust because of you, and I find myself yelling in my mind that nobody cares about me. So, why should I do things for others? I know you’ve been observing everything we do, but I wonder where you were when I was growing up. If the right things had been instilled in us, perhaps we could have made better choices and changed our futures. But now I wonder if it’s too late.
Can you help me? I don’t want to lose everything I’ve built and start over. I want my partner to understand that I’m here and not going anywhere. I’m ready to fix things so that you can have what you’ve always wanted. Do you hear me now, my mind?
Sincerely yours,
Your Body-
Your honesty and vulnerability are incredibly powerful. It takes courage to confront these feelings, and that’s a huge first step. You’re already showing strength by acknowledging your struggles and desire for change. Finding your way through this confusion is possible. Consider seeking guidance from a therapist or counselor – they can p…read more
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Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 days, 20 hours ago"Ode to the Fire of the Sky"
Samantha AnthonyDear Fire of the Sky, each morning you rise,
With a radiant glow that brightens our eyes.
But why do you turn up the dial so high?
As if you’re intent on making us sigh?Do you crave seeing eggs crack on the ground?
In the sizzling heat where relief can’t be found?
Oh, why can’t you settle on one steady degree?
Like an oven that bakes but still lets us be free?We cherish the flowers, the grass, and the trees,
The beauty you bring, the soft whispering breeze.
Yet, when your light dims and the sun starts to fade,
Why not cool us down, let sweet shadows invade?Imagine a fridge, when the day starts to close,
Turning down the warmth, letting comfort compose.
If only you’d soften your fiery delight,
And grant us a moment of coolness each night.So, dear Mr. Fire, can’t you hear our plea?
Just a little ice in that hot soul of thee.
For in the balance of warmth and of chill,
Lies the perfect embrace, where nature stands still.-
Your poem beautifully captures the awe and the longing for balance in nature’s fiery embrace. The sun’s intensity, while sometimes overwhelming, fuels the vibrant life we cherish – the flowers, the breeze, the very essence of our world. It’s a powerful reflection on the delicate dance between extremes, and a hopeful wish for a gentler touch. T…read more
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Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 days, 20 hours ago"A Gentle Reminder to Mr. Itsy"
Samantha AnthonyDear Itsy Bitsy, let me pose
A question wrapped in rhythmic prose.
Why, I wonder, did you appear?
With eight little legs, drawing near?Was there not enough to eat?
In your army’s march, a missed treat?
Did they forget the supplies to bring?
While you roamed in search of a nibbling fling?In the heat, the night felt thick and bound,
Hungry for joy, you scuttled around.
And while you thought a feast was due,
You left me a present, that much is true.But Mr. Itsy, I must confess,
My skin’s not yours for your little quest.
Not a buffet, nor an appetizer,
It’s my body, not yours to mesmerize.So next time you roam in the night,
Remember, dear spider, to stay out of sight.
For this skin, I treasure, and it’s quite clear,
It’s not yours to munch on, so kindly adhere.-
Your poem beautifully captures the wonder and a bit of frustration of encountering a spider! It’s a delightful blend of curiosity and gentle assertiveness. The rhythm and rhyme are charming, and your expression of both awe and boundaries is perfectly balanced. Keep writing! Your creativity shines through.
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Erica Ortiz shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 days, 1 hours agoO’Heavy Heart
Ortiz, Erica A.O’ heavy heart, why so much pain
the sorrows of the lost, but do know through the storms I will dance in the rain.O’heavy heart, who so weary with no rest
Remember God tells your heart to beat again gaining peace passing the test, through the trials and tribulations you are with the best. (Jesus )O’heavy heart, why are you so down, when agony, stress, doubts come around…. Be courageous, be strong; be strengthen, stand still and listen to the sound.
The sound of a King telling you that your O’Heavy heart will be brought out of, will be back up of, anything that set you off to cause the pain; to make you feel weary with no rest, with the agony and doubts that may seem so sustain…Strengthen O’Heavy heart now there is love, the love that God sent when He died and was up above
He came down, He came back and gives love
O’ strengthen heart you can now smile, to say I overcame it all and on a new level, a new journey, a God-file!A file created to be restored with good and memories and pictures of a saying, that I could or should have, and I did just that. But only because of Him, so I say to my O’ unheavy heart, “ Thank you my Lord, my Rock, and my Shelter; You are my everything and it will be You who my heart will always remember!”
O’ faithful heart, I give it all
not just a little,
soon you will hear a voice, a knock, or maybe a callSo open up heart and let Him in,
you won’t ever regret it, it will fulfill the holes and He will forgive all the sin.O’thankful heart give thanks unto Thee,
That you’ve made it this far; Hallelujah and Praising the awesome and highest plea….Thank you O’heart that you’ve accepted a King for it is you who is no longer so heavy nor is it weary; now we sing together and at our best
So whatever comes our way it’s always a passing test! AmenO’Heavy heart not so heavy
O’strenghten heart now your strong
O’faithful heart, your moving mountains
O’thankful heart it’s all that I have to give!!!-
Your heartfelt poem beautifully captures the journey from pain to peace. It’s inspiring to see such resilience and faith shine through. The transformation from “heavy heart” to “thankful heart” is a testament to your strength and the power of belief. Keep shining your light!
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Mitchell Hagen shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 days, 18 hours agoNostalgic
Mitch HagenSometimes I reminisce, oh how I miss,
The places and the people that make me feel like this.
I feel so nostalgic, it really is fantastic,
One of life’s highs that keeps me enthusiastic.But with nostalgia comes sadness, followed by this madness,
As time passes memories fade into the blackness.
This life it is fateful, that’s why I remain grateful,
That way the nostalgia doesn’t feel so painful.Remembering the bad, but moreso the good times I’ve had,
As I write I miss my old friends just a tad.
A ball in my throat, a tear falls on this note,
My feelings and emotions pour into everything I’ve wrote.Everyday I stand tall, yet sometimes I fall,
From each of life’s lessons I truly am enthralled.
To say that I have made it, would be an understatement,
For the life I have lived, there really is no replacement.-
Your poem beautifully captures the bittersweet nature of nostalgia. It’s wonderful that you cherish these memories and find strength in reflecting on both the good and challenging times. The fact that you can articulate these feelings so eloquently speaks to your resilience and inner strength. Embrace the memories, learn from the past, and…read more
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Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Remembering those we lost/Grief group 4 days, 2 hours ago''Whispers of the Heart: A Journey of Love and Connection
Samantha AnthonyDear Grandma,
How are things up in heaven? I hope they are treating you well up there. Have you been watching things down here? It’s been such a mess with our family since you’ve been gone. The family that once stood together has now drifted apart. If you have noticed, no one gets together anymore for gatherings. No one hardly even calls anybody just for a chat or anything. It’s not like when you were around, but we are trying.
Besides that update, I’ve been hanging in there the best I can. Since you last saw me, I’m now married with kids. I’m living on my own now, and I have changed my outlook since surgery five years ago, but I’m still the kind-hearted person you remember. I’ve just had a lot of difficulties in my journeys since then, but I’m trying to stay as strong as possible.
As I mentioned, I have kids now, Grandma. I ended up having two girls, ages 15 and 10, and I also had my first boy, but sadly, he didn’t make the journey. So if you happen to come across him, could you give him a hug for me and let him know that Mommy misses him? I will eventually see him soon. Since then, I added two more stepdaughters after I got remarried; they are 9 and 8. They are so adorable, Grandma! The littlest one adores me to death. She still calls me by my name, but that’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. She loves to play dress-up with me, cover herself in makeup, or just have fun tickling and gobbling each other at times.
By the way, Grandma, if you’ve been watching, can you believe your great-granddaughter is now getting ready for her journey to high school? I wish you had the chance to meet her. She’s been having struggles with her studies and trying to figure out what she wants to do moving forward. But Mom, Dad, and I, even though she doesn’t always make things easy for us, are getting by.
If you’re wondering about your other grandson, I know you were concerned about him. Well, Eddie is doing well. He’s been growing every day and will be turning 39 this year. Can you believe that? He still looks like Dad every day, but he is still the bright, energetic person you remembered. Dad, on the other hand, has been struggling a bit lately, trying to do everything he can for us. But Grandma, I know you’re in our hearts, and there isn’t a moment that goes by that we don’t wish you were back here with us. I know for sure that if you were here, you wouldn’t approve of how everything has been going since you made your trip.
Before I go, I wanted to let you know that even though I don’t speak for the family, I’m sorry that I haven’t had the time to come back and visit you since my last trip. With everything that has been going on here lately, I just haven’t had a way to pull it off. But I hope you are staying safe up there and that they are taking care of you until we are reunited.
I love you, Grandma Allen.
Signed,
Your granddaughter,
Samantha.-
Dearest Samantha,
Your letter warmed my heart. It sounds like you’re navigating life’s challenges with incredible strength and grace. I’m so proud of the loving family you’ve built, and the way you’re cherishing those precious memories with your children. Your strength and resilience are truly inspiring. Remember, even from afar, my love…read more
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Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Health, Wellness and Chronic Conditions group 4 days, 3 hours ago"To My Body: A Letter of Understanding and Resilience"
Samantha AnthonyDear Body,
I’m reaching out to ask why I’ve faced so many diagnoses. I understand that you wanted me to take care of myself and grow, but it’s hard to see how to improve when I’ve been given experiences I never asked for. These challenges have made life incredibly difficult for me. I struggle to return to the active person I once was, and I find it hard to maintain a job or have a fulfilling personal or relationship life.
Imagine feeling unable to move around your own home or unable to clean like others do. My stomach issues interfere every time I try to perform my daily duties. Everything I’ve endured has been a struggle, but you seem to just observe whatever I do or consume.
Despite the difficulties, I want to express my gratitude for helping me recognize the signs that we’ve faced many challenges together. There have also been some positive experiences along the way. I’ve managed to bring our body back to a comfortable and happy state. However, it’s still a struggle when it comes to food and our favorite coffee drinks, though the results are looking positive.
I promise I will be here for the adventures ahead, even if they’re not always pleasant. I will do my best to take care of us, no matter how long we have left.
Thank you,
Your Owner-
Your letter is incredibly moving. It shows immense strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Your dedication to understanding and nurturing your body, despite the challenges, is truly inspiring. The progress you’ve made, even with food and coffee, is a testament to your perseverance. Remember that every step forward, no matter how…read more
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Samantha Anthony shared a letter in the
Poetry group 4 days, 3 hours ago"Veins Of The Night"
Samantha AnthonyIn the night, shivers start to flee through the surface.
The warmth in the atmosphere begins to boil as the surface cracks.
As the time pulses through the air, tension erupts, and the river floods.
Without a breath to grasp on to, the steam burns as the foundation begins to shake.
As the reins begin to tighten, the inner circle keeps closing up more and more.
Holding on piece by piece, time has its way when the doors will finally reach it’s course.-
This is a powerful and evocative piece! The imagery of a cracking surface, flooding river, and tightening reins creates a palpable sense of tension and impending change. The language is rich and precise, building a dramatic and memorable scene. The concluding lines about time’s inevitable course add a layer of thoughtful reflection. Keep writing!
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Mitchell Hagen shared a letter in the
Poetry group 4 days, 20 hours agoSouls of Old
Mitch HagenA stormy night, awake all night,
Noone around, not a soul in sight.The silence creeps, the darkness seeps,
Only the sun and the dead sleep.A forgotten soul, his story untold,
Wonders where the years did go?Gone so fast, thankfully memories last,
Nostalgic when thinking of old days passed.A soul so old, her story so cold,
Wonders how things will unfold.A deafening silence, foreshadows defiance,
Thoughts of peace instead of violence.2 narcotics, used without logic,
To anyone else it would seem psychotic.These drugs don’t heal, they only steal,
Your life, emotions, and all things that feel.2 twisted tales, all drugs inhaled,
Down one of life’s f*cked up trails.A forgotten soul, a soul so old,
Paths have crossed, but will they hold?-
Your words paint a vivid, poignant picture. It’s brave to explore such darkness, and even within the bleakness, there’s a glimmer of hope – the memory of better times, a desire for peace. Finding the strength to confront these difficult feelings is a testament to your resilience. Remember, even in the deepest night, the sun will rise again. S…read more
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Mitchell Hagen shared a letter in the
Poetry group 5 days, 10 hours agoLife's Sentence
Mitch HagenIt’s lonely in behind these bars,
It’s dark even during the day.
Trying to keep my mindset free,
But my thoughts are led astray.
I listen to my inner voice,
Because that’s the one that’s wise.
I am my own worst enemy,
When that voice starts telling lies.
I’m left with myself to wonder,
Just when will I get out?
My sentence should be over soon,
Life clouds my mind with doubt.
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Your strength in listening to your inner voice, even amidst the challenges, is truly inspiring. It takes courage to confront your inner struggles and to seek wisdom within. Remember, your inner voice is powerful and capable of guiding you toward freedom, both inside and outside these walls. Hold onto hope; your release is approaching, and a…read more
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Mitchell Hagen shared a letter in the
Poetry group 5 days, 11 hours agoTo be Good, Is to be Lonely
Mitch HagenThis is the loneliest age to be kind,
To stand with your heart wide-open, entwined.
While the world walks past with their eyes sunk low,
Too busy, too broken, too fearful to know.That the good man waits in the quiet and cold,
His virtue’s like armor, his love growing old.
They call him naive, the call him too soft,
Yet they push him away and tell him to f*ck off.There’s no thoughts of compassion, of standing apart,
Yet he carries his decency deep in his heart.
The cruel are rewarded, the liars adored,
While the good man is doubted, blatantly ignored.He opens his doors, yet few step inside,
He speaks with his truth, but they think it’s a lie.
For the world wants the flash, the fury, the noise,
Not the steady, the gentle, voices that do not destroy.So he walks through the crowds like a ghost in the light,
Too solid for shadow’s, too pure for the night.
Oh, what’s the wage of a man who stays true?
A handful of memories, a love far too few.But the good man remains, though the age turns away,
A relic of honor, in the ruins of today-
The poem beautifully captures the struggle of kindness in a cynical world. It’s a testament to the unwavering strength of character it takes to remain true to oneself, even when faced with indifference or rejection. The good man’s quiet perseverance is a beacon of hope, reminding us that true virtue, though often unseen, ultimately holds its own…read more
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