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The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
Murphy's Law
The fear begins as a whisper—soft, almost kind.
A flicker in the shadows of thought,
a ghost of what could go wrong.
But you look. You listen. You feed it.
And fear, once invited, grows fangs.
You cradle catastrophe in your mind
until it sleeps beside your dreams
and wakes before your coffee.The more you dread,
the more it becomes a self-fulfilling spell,
cast by trembling hands
and minds too haunted to see
that the thing we run from
is often drawn closer
by the thundering echo of our retreat.You feared they’d leave—
so your anxious questions pushed them to the door.
You feared the fall—
and in bracing, you slipped.
You feared silence—
and your panic spoke loud enough to echo.The universe listens not with judgment,
but with obedience.
And it moves
in the direction of your gaze.Fear is a script you recite so often
that life begins to follow its stage directions.
It becomes the blueprint of breakdowns.
And once you expect disaster,
you live rehearsing it—
repeating lines that summon storms,
as if rain was your destiny.But it’s not.
You are not cursed.
You are not doomed.
You are simply powerful—
and that power bends to belief.
So shift it.
Breathe life into faith, not fear.
Envision calm, not collapse.
See love arriving, not leaving.
See doors opening instead of locking.Because when you choose to feed hope
with the same hunger you once gave anxiety,
the world responds.
The winds turn.
And suddenly, the monsters
become mist.
The worst-case no longer rules your mind.
And the life you feared
stops knocking
because you finally stopped answering.Fear only wins
when you crown it king.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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The Nameless Verse shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
The Weight of Light
They told me I was born of stardust—
a soft echo spun from cosmic ash,
but no one warned me that even stardust
can be stepped on, swept up,
or forgotten beneath someone’s shoes.I’ve been trying to shine in places
that worship shadows.
Kissed wounds into people who only
brought me their swords.
Let my chest be an altar for the broken,
but no one stayed long enough to pray.
Still, I gave—
my time, my truth, my trembling hands—
as if love were currency
and I could pay off loneliness
with interest.But I am not debt.
I am not what they abandoned.
I am the sunrise stubborn enough
to come back every morning,
even when the world sleeps through my arrival.
I am the quiet resilience of oceans
pulling tides into rhythm
with a moon that never speaks.I’ve learned the universe doesn’t apologize
for burning stars into oblivion—
it just makes room for new constellations.
And maybe I’m not meant to be
understood by everyone.
Maybe I’m here
to remind the forgotten
that they were never invisible.So if you are reading this—
gripping your soul in clenched fists,
carrying the kind of grief
that leaks when no one’s watching—
know this:You are not the wound.
You are the healing.
You are not lost.
You are the map someone else needs.
You are not too much.
You are the weight of light—
and that’s why they couldn’t hold you.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
A Welcome To Spring
Dear Unsealers:
At the time of writing, there’s less than ten minutes before the vernal equinox. Winter comes to a close.
The first grass grows, the days get longer.
It’s the time of year where come back inside from lunch will be difficult.
I feel a sense of possibility in the air.
With that, a welcome to the new season:
When the first grass grows
It’s the surest sign of time
Rising up from the groundThe seasons are changing
With winter’s icy grip retreating
Spring has finally arrivedA time where everything’s in bloom
Trees, grass and flowers tooUnder equal hours of day and night
The world comes alive againThe new season will unfold in ninety two days
Possibility is in the airAs the next part of the year begins
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Aww Oswald, I love how your poems set the tone for the time of year. It really allows me and reminds me to take a moment to be present. Your poems always put me in the moment, which is so important in life. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. I am going to feature your piece in our newsletter today. <3 Lauren
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Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
Judgment Day
The crowd gathered round as you rode in on your high horse. We watched as you took your seat on the highest pedestal. As you looked down on those of us on the ground, you decided we were simple fools and peasants. Nothing of your stature. You straightened up and sat tall announcing that the time had come for you to pass judgement. We bowed our heads shamefully, for you told us we aren’t worth a name. Because we are all human garbage, we can be classed as a stereotype. You won’t allow our eyes to meet your gaze, we are too unworthy to be socially accepted by you. “Wasted space,” is what you say, “the world has no place for your kind.” You tell us we are simple minded, useless, and no good. We should never be allowed to associate with your graces. We have not earned the right to stand where you have stood. You mock us and laugh in our faces. We are merely entertainment for someone like you. You have ruled that we are not fit to be among the class of high society and pound your gavel to finalize the sentencing. We watch as you sit back, pleased with yourself and all your wondrous accomplishments. But as we stand together here on the ground, we dance and laugh and live freely. We are proud not to have to sit on a throne or bare the crown of perfection. We embrace our simple lives full of love and joy. For we know: we may have a long, treacherous journey to the top but we have no other way to look but up. As for you, sat way up high, there is nowhere left to go. Only down. Even the greatest kings and queens could never defeat gravity.
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Ava Lawrey shared a letter in the
Magical Moments group 3 months ago
the best day of my life
march 15 2025
the best day of my lifeI want to preface this by saying the title may be slightly misleading-march 15 was not the best day of my life in question (although, it was pretty good).
after spending a couple hours dillydallying about fisherman’s wharf and pier 39 in San Francisco, I decided to take the cable car back to my hotel (only the cable car took us half way, kicked us out, and told us to take the bus, which I opted to walki the mile, I decided I needed to walk that extra scoop of ice cream off). anywho, I was sitting in the cable car, distracting my mind from being present, scrolling through tiktok while also on facetime with my long-distance best friend. i saw a tiktok that nearly stopped me dead in my tracks. he was posing the question of “what was the best day of your life?” and I really thought ‘wow, I can’t pinpoint that’. and of course, the comments were filled with similar thoughts to my own.
what’s even worse, I could immediately think of an exact date that I’d consider the worst day of my life. I can tell you all the details about that day. almost as if I can relive it.
so it had me thinking, what could possibly have been the best day of my life? and a lot of people like to go the route of they haven’t lived it yet, they haven’t gotten to the best day ever yet. but that proves the point.
that proves that we are always just waiting for the next best. that we’re always comparing every good thing to happen to something else. that enough is never actually enough. success isn’t successful enough. happiness isn’t happy enough. every good thing could be better. we have so deeply engrained in us the ideal that the grass is greener on the other side. that’s what drives people to infidelity. because there’s always someone else out there that could be better, right?it’s the potential we hold onto, the hope that we grasp onto. I think it gives us purpose- knowing the best day ever has yet to come. that we will always have something to look forward to because the best day has yet to happen. (at least, for the glass half full kinda people- optimistically scouring the earth for meaning, searching for the positive in every situation, seeing the world as beautiful and abundant.)
but I don’t think that way. I think when we are asked what the best day of our life has been, it’s conclusive only of what we have so far experienced. it’s a day that’s subjective. and may continue to get replaced as we live on, and value other things and find other events more fulfilling or more joyful.
it’s much easier to pinpoint the worst day ever because we don’t want to top it. we don’t want to one up some really bad shit. we want to leave it in the past. horrible days beg for our acknowledgement because they drain the life out of us. experiencing a day so bad that you were so painfully aware of all of your surroundings down to the smell of the stale air in the brick room of the house that was built in 1812 that you were standing on. down to the sound the floor made when you stepped on the creaky wood on your way out the door for the final time. you’ll remember exact phrases you said, exact ways that you felt. tastes, smells, sights, absolutely consumed you in a moment that left a forever imprint on your being. maybe not everyone’s worst day of their life was a traumatic event, but I think a lot of people have experienced trauma in even smaller scales.
horrible events beg for us to be sucked into them. they are so energetically draining, like a black hole, an energy vacuum. the energy we put towards negativity requires more effort than feelings of joy, which is why negative memories are far easier to remember than those that were joyful. bad things are often synonymous with our uncontrollables in life. because, unfortunately, we are unable to control everything in our life, which can lead to unfavorable things taking place. and, well, that’s life. but it takes a decision, effort, to make a positive thing happen. it takes effort to have the best day ever, and the worst day ever is typically one that happens TO us, rather than for us, perhaps.
though, I believe joy requires more autonomy. it’s like the paralysis of decision. deciding which day we can proclaim as the best feels like too much pressure. there’s where the pressure to be perfect comes into play. the pressure for the best. we have more choice in the decision of the best moments in our life than our worst. as I feel joy is a passive feeling, that is fleeting because it feels good to flow with the emotion of. and experiencing pain or suffering is much more active, as we spend the time in efforts to resist the feeling, rather than sitting in it and going with the flow. it’s easy to get in the boat and flow happily along the river, it feels good, natural, easy. it’s much easier to be joyful and have a happy memory. but you’ll remember the time you had to row upstream in a storm and all of the effort you had to put in to keep moving forward. same way our brain works through memories.
somehow, joy takes effort and happens naturally all at once. that’s the duality of it. it can be easy, and so difficult.
so, I was thinking about my best day. and I think where I’m struggling is that I want to combine a bunch of favorite memories to make the most perfect best day ever. I find something wrong with each day that I start to think is the best I’ve had. nothing is sufficient. it doesn’t help that I’m a happy crier, it doesn’t take much to make me feel emotional in a good way. and every time I feel so encompassed in my emotion, my eyes swell, I feel so deeply. that’s why I’ve been pondering my best day ever, wracking my brain of every positive memory I have ever had in my 24 years of existence thus far.
luckily for us, we’re likely to replace our best day ever time and time again. it just means we experience way more good in life than bad, and thank the Lord for that.
my most recent best day ever was in Belgium.
I arrived in Brussels and decided I wanted to take the train to Ghent. oddly, I have felt an overwhelming sense of comfort every time I’ve been to Belgium, a home-like feeling. this time was no different. on the 40-minute train to Ghent, I sat by the window. put my phone face down on the tray table in front of me, took my airpods out and put them back in their case, and just stared out the window. I do this thing when I’m traveling where I actively try to soak in every single moment, especially the mundane moments. (though I’m realizing I’m a hypocrite based on paragraph two of this.) if you lived in Brussels and took the train to Ghent every weekend, you likely would find ways to distract yourself, you would get used to the ride, bored of it even. not me, this was my first time. and looking out at the countryside, it was so eerily similar to parts of Kentucky where I’m from, and I started tearing up. the small part of myself that misses home was feeling engulfed in this moment. the little girl that was coloring next to me kept looking over at me and I’d like to think it was because she thought I was cool, but she probably actually thought I was ridiculous. I actually thought she was really cool, I was thinking wow, how cool would it have been to grow up here.
after getting dropped off in Ghent, I wandered through the streets, and this is what I have in my note’s app,
“the countryside of belgium, perhaps ‘the burbs’ inbetween brussels & ghent, actually look eerily like kentucky. and i feel weirdly at home.
ok everyone comes out on sunday to buy tulips & other flowers in ghent? thats cute. and the rich people have having bottles of wine & charcuterie in the middle of all of it”that doesn’t tell you much. but for a moment, I envisioned myself living here, coming out on a Sunday afternoon to buy tulips and have a European brunch with family and friends, and I liked the way I felt a serotonin boost just by picturing that alone.
I decided to take a little touristy boat tour through the canals for 9 euros (where the f is the euro symbol on my keyboard?). I sat down next to a girl who said she’s from Vancouver, who proceeded to tell me about her corporate job that absolutely went over my head. I thought she was cool enough to share a boat seat with for 40 minutes I suppose.
when I took the train back to Brussels after having wine and the best brioche with chocolate chips, I wandered around (clearly I do a lot of that). ate more random little bites and stumbled into my favorite little park in the city where there is always live music and people joined around. by live music, I mean men who pull up with a guitar and sing typically. but it always speaks to my soul. and I get emotional every time. I sat and listened, I watched, I took some deep breaths to take it all in.
later that night, I stumbled into a cool reclining wooden chair looking at the cathedral where I sat to watch as the sun went down, and I felt God smiling at me. I swear. on my walk back, I got mistaken for a local and that made me feel like I belong in a cool girl way. I even got gelato and the man shaped it into a rose for me. I saw more people singing but this time in the Grand Place, and I fell in love with life all over again.
all of that goes to say, maybe that was my most favorite day ever. but then, I can’t help but to think there was probably a day in my life that tops that. part of me feels like the best day ever should have included a cool accomplishment, like when I graduated flight attendant training and was really emotional about it, or ran 20 miles for the first time, or hiked a mountain, my first solo hiking trip, or my first solo international trip, or something. but maybe my silly little 24-hour work trip to Brussels where I took a train to Ghent will sit there for now. and I won’t rush the next best day ever. somehow there is something really awesome about every single day, even the ‘meh’ days.
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Ava, I love everything about this piece. Your honesty and “realness” is refreshing. Though I haven’t been able to travel as much as I’d like, your trip to Belgium sounds like a dream. What you said about always looking for our next best say really resonated with me. Instead of hoping for something better, I will make an effort to soak up what I…read more
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hi emmy, thank you for this <3 I try to be as real as possible, I feel we have lost a bit of originality and authenticity in today's world. all we have is the present moment and I think there is something special about each day. anywho, soak it all up 🙂
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!
Dear Unsealers:
It’s the seventeenth day of March.
So the adage goes, we’re all a little bit Irish today. With that in mind, I hope that everyone has a wonderful St. Patrick’s Day with all the luck.
As I’ve done since 2021, I’ve written my own Irish blessing, and it goes like this…
On this, the 17th day of March
A blessing from me to youMay the sun shine upon you
Blue skies above, green grass belowRainbows to appear when you’re near
A life lived joyfully, without many tearsFor your troubles to be less
The craic always kept in good cheerAll the shamrocks bringing luck
With the warmth of Eire’s heart, soulThere’s one more thing to say
To everyone on the Emerald Isle…Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibhSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Oswald, I’ve always loved the fun and celebratory spirit of St. Patrick’s Day. After all, who doesn’t want to feel a little luckier than usual? I love how your poem captures the positive and uplifting nature of the holiday and also pays homage to the Irish. Thank you for sharing!
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Kendra Bendewald shared a letter in the
Surviving Addiction group 3 months ago
I see you
You can see us on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We are hardly a sight for sore eyes
We are dirty and vacant
With ripped clothes and sad faces
We wear this as our new disguise.
See some time ago
We were regular people
Until something in life got us down
Whether it heartbreak or money
Family or lack of
There’s something we needed to drown
The voices in our heads
That tell us we aren’t worth shit
Or The memories we just can’t move on from
Maybe it’s trauma or sadness
Or just basic madness
Fill in the blank with your own noun
It ripped us apart
And it spit out the pieces
And robbed us of all we once cherished
We were desperate for relief
So we followed the dragon
We got lost on the way; our souls perished.
Now as is probably Expected
Pretty much textbook
We burn bridges with selfish behavior
Some of us come back
And they find inner peace
And usually they call it their savior
But some of us misfits
The world has forgotten
We’re broken and fucked up
downright dirty and rotten
Someone or something has shattered our hearts
And we know that we’re never the same
So we escape all the pain
With powder or pills
And we find ourselves stuck in this game
We spiral and wander
Away from reality
And further down into the abyss
The people around us
eventually give up
Cause what’s even still there to miss?
We are just scumbags on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We’re junkies; unfortunate souls
We fucked up, we get it
We don’t need reminded
Please shut up or spark up a bowlSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Kendra, this is so powerful but also heartbreaking. You are so worthy. I want to send you the biggest hug, and I hope you find the healing in your heart and the happiness in your life that you so deserve. Please also check out our resources page, theunsealed.com/resources. Sending you the biggest hug.
Sharing with some of our users that can…read more
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Kendra, this poem is raw and powerful. It is easy for others to judge a situation when they aren’t the ones to experience it, but they don’t realize the individual story that each person experiencing addiction has. You are so right that these individuals do not need reminders of what they’ve done at their worst, but instead deserve compassion and…read more
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Kendra,
That is absolutely beyond beautiful 🌹
You hit the nail on the head in a lot of areas. I just want to share one with you, I’m sure you’ll understand.
I wrote this at correctional treatment facility in 2000, it’s called…The Cloud:
I have this cloud inside my brain
That storms out loud with lightning and rain
That no one can take my…read moreWrite me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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That is amazing! I love the cloud reference too. Being a past frequent flyer in treatment facilities I remember the pink cloud lesson well
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P.S.
You are an Angel
You guard with your life people such as myself, and you know the ones that are like us. Never give up, and when you’re feeling hopeless remember…
You have superpowers inside, just as Lauren Brill has spoken and written about. Please believe her cuz the woman knows what she’s talking about too. I have more respect for you…read moreWrite me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Heather shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months ago
Mood: Nostalgic
Can we go back to playing barbies on the bedroom floor?
Playing baby dolls on rainy days?
Or to those Saturday mornings of cartoons & a big bowl of Fruit Loops cereal?
Can we go back to those summer days of frozen Capri Suns, popsicles, & all day swim sessions?
Or to those skid knees from falling off bikes.
Falling down from rollerblading.
Can we go back to late night sleepovers at grandma’s house?
Or those next morning wake up calls of fresh pancakes consuming grandma’s house.
Can we go back to playing videos games all night?
Playing the game tag all day outside?
Can we go back to a time when it wasn’t rushing us to grow old?
When time was less of our worries.
Or to those summer days of riding bikes in dust storms feeling powerful?
Can we go back to a time when feeling free was all we knew?Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Heather, this takes me back to my childhood. My younger sister and I spent long summer days outside feeling as if they would never end. When we are children, we usually don’t realize the beauty of a life without adult responsibility. I’d love to go back too! Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
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Heather, I so feel all of this, and these thoughts enter my head every now and then. Childhood was so magical and I never knew life would be so different when I grew up. Maybe it doesn’t have to be? Thank you for sharing. I am going to feature this piece in our newsletter today. <3 Lauren
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Thank you for this! & thank you for sharing in the newsletter. Means so much to not just me but to my internal human who finds such zen in writing. She FINALLY feels heard. Her words are FINALLY being seen in a community that she’s searched for so long. Thank you!!
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Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 1 weeks ago
On My Mind... Again
I sit down to write
You’re on my mind again
But this is nothing new
By now I’m used to itSometimes it’s all consuming
Other times, fleeting thoughts
Either way it hits me
I’m left feeling lostI ache to my core for you
Miss every moment we never shared
I need you to know I love you
And that I’ll always careI’ll never forget you
My soul knows something is missing
My brain tries to rationalize it
But my heart is never listeningSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Martha, missing someone who is no longer a part of our life leaves us feeling bereft and unmoored. No matter how irrational we know our feelings may be, it doesn’t stop them from consuming us. Whether we choose to listen to our hearts or our minds, these feelings do not often dissipate as quickly as we’d like. Thank you for sharing this moving poem!
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Thank you for taking the time to read it. I appreciate it so much.
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Martha, This is so beautiful and so relatable. I totally know what it’s like to miss someone you love and feel it in the vibration of your heart. I am going to feature this poem in our newsletter today. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. Sending hugs. <3 Lauren
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Thank you for the support and encouragement. It is truly and deeply appreciated.
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Liz shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 1 weeks ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 2 weeks ago
International Women's Day 2025
Dear Unsealers,
It’s the eighth day of March.
A Happy International Women’s Day to all the women of the world. From my mom, my sister, all of my female friends and relatives. And to all the women in The Unsealed.
In honor of your strength, kindness and tenacity, comes this poem…
On International Women’s Day 2025
A salute to all the women
Family, relatives, friends and acquaintances
In every corner of the worldMay they keep making this world a better place
Bringing their light, tenacity and strength
Into these trying days and nightsMay we learn from their compassion
Their willingness to stick up for what’s rightI wouldn’t be the person I am
Kind, compassionate and fierce
If not for my mom and sister
The two most important women in my lifeHere’s to the women of the world
Celebrated on this 8th day of MarchAnd every single day of the year!
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Oswald, this poem is such a sweet tribute to the women you’ve encountered. It is obvious, based on your kindness and compassion, that some top tier ladies have influenced you! As a woman, your words mean a lot to me even though I do not know you personally. Thank you for supporting and uplifting the women in your life and for sharing your lovely poetry!
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michae1 shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 2 weeks ago
2 Fingers Up
Self reflecting with two
fingers up. Projecting peace,
A double entendre.
Happy, with a joyful smile
Showing my teeth.
With the acception of
A Farwell to the past versions of me.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Michael, this poem makes me think that you are feeling confident and excited about life. I love that you are “projecting peace” with your two fingers up and smiling with your teeth. I hope that you are able to continue living your truth! Thank you for sharing.
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Oswald Perez shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
March On!
Dear Unsealers,
It’s the first day of March.January took a century to go by. February passed through quickly.
March is a month of transition.As the clocks will turn ahead an hour in a week. More daylight on the commute home from work.
The countdown to Easter begins. The Lenten season begins on Ash Wednesday.A month that honors women, and brings cerebral palsy to the forefront. And a moment marking five years since the world as we knew it was upended.
March is a month when the seasons begin to change. It begins in the last days of winter and comes to a close at the start of spring.
All in thirty-one days.
As with every month, a welcome in verse:
March
Month number three, in 2025The month comes in like a lion
As winter’s chill and hints of spring trade daysThirty-one days lie ahead.
A season of transitionFrom clocks moving ahead
Equal hours of night and dayA month of solemnity
The countdown to Easter begins.It’s also Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
And five years since the AwakeningThe month goes out like a lamb
As the first blooms arriveSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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Oswald, I love how you always usher in a new month with hopeful anticipation! March feels like a month of transition to me as well. As winter fades away and spring begins to show its colors, we feel a sense of possibility….unless we are talking about five years ago when March stood for something completely different. Thank you for sharing this piece!
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TK shared a letter in the
Chasing Your Dreams group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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TK shared a letter in the
Chasing Your Dreams group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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michae1 shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
Emotional Creatures
Some of us worry about
“Certain features”,
We go through “desperate measures”.
To provide some type of pleasure.
We’re Constantly under pressure,
Fighting with gravity.
We are searching and looking
Browsing at eye candy,
Looks are appealing, but
To get a taste.
You might Unwrap other
Feelings!
Revealing the mind is
So divine,
Sometimes it’s quiet and unspoken,
Then sometimes it’s loud!
When it’s provoken,
Soo, maybe….it’s better to
Leave it unopened.
The power of emotions, blows up!
Some atomic fluids flowing. Now,
We’re chemically influenced.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Michael, I love how you explain the complexity of emotions we encounter as humans each day. Our emotions have the power to influence us in a variety of ways and in many cases, we are unable to control them. It is so interesting that we have such little power against something that is so prevalent in our lives. Thank you for sharing this poem!
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Anita Williams shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
"Becoming Whole"
Lately, I’ve been searching deep,
through silent nights and wounds that weep.
Reflecting on the path I’ve known,
the love I gave, yet stood alone.This season of stillness, a destined pause,
life unfolding by divine laws.
Losing, healing, standing still,
learning that time bends to God’s will.I’ve poured my soul into the hands of others,
lifted friends, lovers, sisters, brothers.
But now, I turn that love within,
where healing starts, where I begin.No longer chasing, forcing, pleading,
just trusting life, trusting its meaning.
For what is mine will never stray,
it will find me in its own way.Yes, I want love, but love is not a cure,
not a place where wounds endure.
No one should fix what they didn’t break,
love should build, not bend till it aches.I seek a bond where spirits grow,
not a place where burdens show.
A hand to hold, not one to mend,
a partner first, a lover, a friend.So I stand in truth, in light, in grace,
embracing healing, finding my space.
Celibate, patient, guarding my soul,
waiting for love that makes me whole.No more weight upon my chest,
no more giving till there’s nothing left.
Love is balance, love is free,
love will meet me when it’s meant to be.And when it does, I will not chase,
I will not question time or place.
For love aligned, by fate, by call,
needs no force—it simply falls.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Anita, this kind of love is what everyone deserves in their lives. I’m so glad that you’ve realized you are worth so much more than the one-sided love you’ve given others in the past. You are right that love that is meant to be “simply falls” into place without the need for force. I hope that you find it soon! Thank you for sharing this piece.
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Paige Walden shared a letter in the
Magical Moments group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
Echoes in the Mist
In the quiet embrace of the fog, the world is transformed into a dreamscape; shrouded in mystery and wonder.
It is a sanctuary to God’s creatures who roam and call it home,
and to souls who either melt in the embrace of natures hug, or thrive in it during a hunt in the wilderness, venturing deep into the veil of fog for prey.Today, I stepped outside to experience the serene air kissing my skin, the fog blanketing the woods in front of me beckoned me with its allure,
my eyes also catching the gold and brown leaves, whispering tales of autumn’s end.I look to see the bare branches reaching out like fingers yearning to touch the misty air,
and in that fleeting moment, suspended in time, I captured a glimpse of the desire that emanated from the trees.Its a reflection of my aspiration, to embody that quality in my life, to reach out and languish into the fog, being alive yet one with it would be a dream— as that would mean I would be forever trapped in a state of serenity or peace.
And if dreams become reality, then I implore whoever sees me fading into foggy stillness to keep from reaching out and let me be,
for in that moment I am happy,
I am free.Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Paige, the imagery you use in this piece adds to the dreaminess and peace that you describe. I love the lines “Today, I stepped outside to experience the serene air kissing my skin, the fog blanketing the woods in front of me beckoned me with its allure.” I like how fog is a blanket for you instead of something suffocating. Thank you for sharing…read more
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Yes 😍 I love foggy, almost gloomy type of weather! It’s just so relaxing to me! Thank you again for leaving your comment! 🥰
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Blue Sky shared a letter in the
Poetry group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
404 Not Found
404 not found
My long search came up empty
Looking for the oneAfter the divorce
Never thought I’d try to look
Then I hit refreshFound a rabbit hole
I decided to jump in
To see what I’d findEww, what a cesspool
What does it say about me
That I am in it?And then in the end
Disorganized attachment
Bit me in the assThen, I decided
I’d try therapy instead
To get over her404 not found
Entered the wrong URL
BetterHelp.comNot Bumble.com
Would have been more suitable
For my broken heartSubscribe  or  log in to reply
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I love this poem. I feel like many of us feel like the best response to heartbreak is to move on to someone else. Sometimes, it can even make things easier. Other times, it just highlights how broken we really are. It is better to work through your feelings in healthier ways. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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leebothegood shared a letter in the
Chasing Your Dreams group 3 months, 3 weeks ago
NEVER GIVE UP
Thank you very much
Hide quoted textOn Mon, Feb 24, 2025, 10:43 PM Lauren Brill wrote:
Click write a letter now in the top right once you are signed in and then you can put it in the “chasing your dreams” category.Lauren
On Mon, Feb 24, 2025 at 10:25 PM Leroy Bragg wrote:
Thank you very much, where would I put the story at
On Mon, Feb 24, 2025, 10:15 PM Lauren Brill <lauren@theunsealed.comSo for 24 years I have been a lube/tire tech, I have worked some Amazing jobs and never expected to move up, well after my Longest reign of 7 years at a job, I had a opportunity to get within 10 minutes of my home.So I hated leaving but it was time to go.The first day at this new job was SPECTACULAR, after that it was A NIGHTMARE, I regretted going to work, but I was working 5 days a week so I really couldn't leave.I received a call from my job I walked out on 20 years ago.It just so happened the interview was the day we were getting off work early for a Christmas party ( I didn't go to the party) I went to the job was Ready to be a LUBE TECH ( he didn't need what I was) So I figured a porter or something smaller,( I didn't care I WANTED OUT of that other job and I was willing to DO ANYTHING.My boss told me I was to be PDI TECH( ALOT BETTER and better pay) So I GREATLY ACCEPTED.I would quit this other job ( another story) And I'm VERY HAPPY I HAVE AMAZING COWORKERS, I'M HAPPY, and I love MY JOB AGAIN ( FIRST TIME IN YEARS) I THANK GOD for All the hardships cause it led me to my Final Auto shop.I don't know how long I have left to work on cars, But honestly I'm just getting started.PH 4:13 I Can do all things through Christ who strengthen me.
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Leroy, I’m so glad that you made your way to the job you were meant to be at. Sometimes, it takes leaving a toxic workplace to understand what we truly need in our job. It says a lot that you have stayed in the same industry for 24 years! I’m sure you are absolutely great at what you do. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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