Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life
$250 (total prize money)
Reflect on a turning point in your life and write a poem or letter about it. This is your chance to express how that moment changed you and shaped your future. Your story could encourage others who might be facing their own crossroads. Take this opportunity to connect, reflect, and share your journey with the world.
Reflect on a turning point in your life and write a poem or letter about it. This is your chance to express how that moment changed you and shaped your future. Your story could inspire others who might be facing their own crossroads. Take this opportunity to connect, reflect, and share your journey with the world.
All Entries must be in by 11:59 PM Eastern Time on Wednesday, October 16th, 2024
Those moving on to round two will be notified by Tuesday, December 17th
Voting will take place from December 17th to midnight on January 20th.
Winners will be announced January 21st
Read the Rules before you enter.
Also, check us out on Instagram
1st place prize – $200 – selected by judges (Malaika)
2nd place prize $50 -selected by judges (RickWrites)
Bonus prize—selected by votes—is a digital billboard for one hour (we do not have access to billboards in every city, so this is only applicable if we have access to one in your area) or a free copy of “Unseal Your Superpowers“. (Tionna)
Congratulations to our winners!
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chelene72 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 2 months, 3 weeks ago
President Visits San Antonio, Texas
She dreams about it every year
she doesn’t want to but she does
knowing now what she didn’t then
she wonders if she had been able
to warn Him, Them
would He, They
have listened
would it have made a difference
she dreams about itTeenage girl getting ready
for the most important
day of her young life
make up carefully applied
dark flipped hair teased high
bangs fluffed up framing baby blue eyes
blinding mists of hair spray
a touch of light pink lipstick
a kiss to the mirror and she’s out the doorThe girl barely thirteen
on the ground twenty or so rows back
sharing binoculars with friends
taking turns to get a closer look
a couple seated center stage
beautiful people man and wife
the light Texas breeze
blows the First Lady’s dark hair
across her face how beautiful she is
how handsome the man
she remembers the words
from his inaugural speech
“Ask not what your Country
Can do for you, but ask
What you can do for your Country.”Teenage girl suddenly realizes
his speech is over
she must get closer
jumps up leaving her friends
runs up the sidewalk
past rows and rows of chairs
under the bright sunlight
in San Antonio, TexasShe dreams about it
the slapping of her shoes
echo off the hallway walls
the heavy thump of her heart
gasping roar of her ragged breath
are all she can hearBarely thirteen
slim with angular face
slightly awkward
dark hair flipped bounced
bangs cut to eyebrows above blue eyes
dress sleeveless baby blue
the color of the open clear
November Texas sky
girl’s full skirt sways side to side
with every slapping stepTeenage girl runs past barricades
she must get closer yet
Secret Service agent
in front of the open hall
stops at the sound
of someone running
teenage girl watches as
the agent reaches toward the
handsome manShe dreams about it
she comes to a stop
twenty feet from
the President
it is just the three of them
she is close enough to hear
his quick intake of breath
as he stops surprised
looks at the agent
then at the young girl so very close
he is very tan and his eyes
reflect the bright blue Texas sky
as his eyes capture hers
she realizes he has the ability
to make you feel
you have his full attentionHe smiles his million-dollar smile
gives a slight chuckle, waves a tan hand
says, “Hi!”
his familiar voice gives her shivers
she gives him a shy smile and wave
then the President was goneTeenage girl floats in a bubble
the rest of the day
her friends angry she left them
but she doesn’t mind
retells how he smiled said hi
how he looked so tan and alive
she doesn’t remember walking home
the front of the evening paper
San Antonio Express and News
dated November 21, 1963Teenage girl lies in bed that night
relives the fantastic moment
smiles as sleep finally takes her away
still in perfect bubble the next day
euphoria continues to sparkle in her veins
nothing gets done all morningAfter lunch the day is shattered
a crying girl with a transistor radio
the President was shot and has died
seems less real to the teenage girl
than the day before when he was alive
so close she could almost touch him
can’t be true can’t be true can’t be trueBarely thirteen and the horror
hit her like a punch to the gut
she doubles over arms clenched
across her stomach as tears begin to flow
she lays her head on her desk
that smells of pencil and eraserDays living in a fog
teenage girl cries in her bed at night
funeral on TV black high-spirited riderless horse
follows American flag on Lincoln’s draped caisson
Taps plays note breaks on sixth
echoes agony and grief
she and people everywhere feel
although the world mourns with her
she feels the loss so very personalTeenage girl dreams about it
but doesn’t want to
the handsome man so full of life
is gone forever as is the dream
of our own Camelot
so much promise
for the whole world has gone with him
and we aren’t promised a tomorrowI dream about it
I don’t want to but I do
if I only had known then
what I know now
if I only had said something
would He, They
have listened
would it have made a difference
if I had told him
“Please don’t go to Dallas.
They will kill you!”I was that teenage girl
over sixty years ago
I am still inspired
by his words
I dream about it
I don’t want to
but I doVoting is closed
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Wow, Mickey, what a memory. His memory and spirit still live on through you and all the people who inspired you. This is incredible. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of our Unsealed family. <3 Lauren
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thedarklightalchemist submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 3 months, 4 weeks ago
A Journey Back to Me
Dear Unsealers,
There’s a moment in life when things change, not just on the outside but deep within. For me, that moment wasn’t a big, dramatic event—it was more like a whisper, one that slowly grew louder until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I spent a lot of time trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, thinking that if I checked all the boxes, I’d finally be happy. I wanted to protect everyone, be the best mom, wife, and person I could be, and still somehow find time for myself. But something was missing. I was disconnected from myself, from the love I wanted to feel and share.
The turning point came when I realized that the love I was searching for wasn’t out there—it was already within me. I had to learn to love myself first, to stop depending on others for validation, and to connect with my own heart and soul. It wasn’t easy, but that moment—realizing that I am enough just as I am—changed everything. I stopped chasing perfection and started living with intention. I learned that real power comes from within, and when we embrace who we truly are, we not only heal ourselves but also the people around us.
Now, every day, I try to live with that understanding: that love, kindness, and compassion are choices we make, starting with how we treat ourselves. That’s my turning point—when I realized that in order to give to others, I had to first find peace within myself.
With Love & Light,
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Patti, I needed to hear this today! Often, I feel like I’m running through the motions in life without actually enjoying it. I love my husband and my children more than they know, but I need to find a way to love me too. I can be as kind to others as I want, but if I’m not kind to myself I’ll never be truly happy. Thank you for sharing your wisdom!
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I needed to hear this from you today:) thank you!
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wordgirl submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
My Sister Kate
The day approaches near, and I feel an empty space.
My thoughts are so depressing, every turn I see your face.Our mother’s scream still lingers, through my ears and in my head.
As her words slice through the air, “Oh God Crissy Kate is dead”.Yes, I thought she’d lost it. But I came to realize.
That she wasn’t nuts at all, I soon saw with my own eyes.Your body lay half on the bed and I turn to take a look.
As I flipped your body over, my entire soul was shook.Blood oozed out from your nose, your mouth frozen slight ajar.
Your eyes were rolled inside your head. How did it get this far?You were cold and you were stiff. You were charcoal, purple, blue.
Your entire body swollen, you just didn’t look like you.Our mother screaming “Make her breathe”, continually she would yelp.
“Oh Crissy you have to save her”. “Oh Crissy you have to help”.I tried desperately to revive you. Though I knew it was too late.
Dear God I want my sister. Why the hell are you taking Kate?There was no pulse or movement, as I compressed repeatedly.
My mouth upon your discolored mouth, the only breathing was from me.Our mother asking, “is she alive”? “Crissy is she breathing yet?
You were so cold and dark, beneath my hands, I can’t forget.I failed to make it happen. No matter how tirelessly I had tried.
I failed to make you breathe again, beyond the door, our mother cried.At some point my movements stopped and I took this final sight.
As my sadness and the anger, just consumed me in my plight.You were gone and I had to tell her. “Mom, I’m sorry she is dead”.
Her scream of horror ringing on, her heart breaking with what I said.She looked up to my eyes, and said “Oh Crissy that can’t be, tell me no”.
If I could have traded my life right then, but I held her, as we let you go.If only I could have saved you. If only there had been some way.
If only I could have filled our Mom’s request, then you’d be here today.Instead we watched them take you. A black body bag across the floor.
Your body dead within it, as they dragged you out the door.As if you weren’t a person, pulling you like a fleshy inhuman blotter.
Their callousness invokes me, so I scream “that’s my sister and her daughter”.As they thumped you down the stairs, stunned, they stop to stare at me.
They look upon the body bag, and finally they begin to see.From the ground they gently pick you up and they move you to the Hurst .
My misery all consuming, I know my rage is about to burst.But I have to be the strong one and I have to move along.
To be there for our loving mother, to be the rock to keep her strong.I will not ever forget that day, because a big part of me died with you.
Regardless of the years since then, this isn’t something I can get through.I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it sometimes the memories just make me crack.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one, to save you and bring you back.I miss you and I love you and I am so sorry this was your fait.
The good of you and that horrid day will always live inside me, my sister, Kate.
My Sister Kate
The day approaches near, and I feel an empty space.
My thoughts are so depressing, every turn I see your face.Our mother’s scream still lingers, through my ears and in my head.
As her words slice through the air, “Oh God Crissy Kate is dead”.Yes, I thought she’d lost it. But I came to realize.
That she wasn’t nuts at all, I soon saw with my own eyes.Your body lay half on the bed and I turn to take a look.
As I flipped your body over, my entire soul was shook.Blood oozed out from your nose, your mouth frozen slight ajar.
Your eyes were rolled inside your head. How did it get this far?You were cold and you were stiff. You were charcoal, purple, blue.
Your entire body swollen, you just didn’t look like you.Our mother screaming “Make her breathe”, continually she would yelp.
“Oh Crissy you have to save her”. “Oh Crissy you have to help”.I tried desperately to revive you. Though I knew it was too late.
Dear God I want my sister. Why the hell are you taking Kate?There was no pulse or movement, as I compressed repeatedly.
My mouth upon your discolored mouth, the only breathing was from me.Our mother asking, “is she alive”? “Crissy is she breathing yet?
You were so cold and dark, beneath my hands, I can’t forget.I failed to make it happen. No matter how tirelessly I had tried.
I failed to make you breathe again, beyond the door, our mother cried.At some point my movements stopped and I took this final sight.
As my sadness and the anger, just consumed me in my plight.You were gone and I had to tell her. “Mom, I’m sorry she is dead”.
Her scream of horror ringing on, her heart breaking with what I said.She looked up to my eyes, and said “Oh Crissy that can’t be, tell me no”.
If I could have traded my life right then, but I held her, as we let you go.If only I could have saved you. If only there had been some way.
If only I could have filled our Mom’s request, then you’d be here today.Instead we watched them take you. A black body bag across the floor.
Your body dead within it, as they dragged you out the door.As if you weren’t a person, pulling you like a fleshy inhuman blotter.
Their callousness invokes me, so I scream “that’s my sister and her daughter”.As they thumped you down the stairs, stunned, they stop to stare at me.
They look upon the body bag, and finally they begin to see.From the ground they gently pick you up and they move you to the Hurst .
My misery all consuming, I know my rage is about to burst.But I have to be the strong one and I have to move along.
To be there for our loving mother, to be the rock to keep her strong.I will not ever forget that day, because a big part of me died with you.
Regardless of the years since then, this isn’t something I can get through.I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it sometimes the memories just make me crack.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one, to save you and bring you back.I miss you and I love you and I am so sorry this was your fait.
The good of you and that horrid day will always live inside me, my sister, Kate.Voting is closed
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Cristina, I am at a loss for words after reading your poem. Your description of events is completely shattering. I cannot fathom what you and your mother went through when you lost Kate, but your strength astounds me. I’m sure that she is with you in spirit every day. Thank you for sharing your experience.
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Thank you so much. It will be 28 years on 11/16/24, and this is the first year I’ve publicly shared my poem, so your feedback and feelings touched me.
Sincerely, CristinaWrite me back Subscribe  or  log in to reply
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Wow! I applaud your bravery in sharing this, and the way you captured the guilt, the grief, the shock, in such beautiful rhymes no less truly moved me. Thank you for sharing and for making your sister’s memory into a beautiful piece of art that helps others who’ve been through traumatic loss.
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shalynnpace submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
From Watercolors to Words
For you-
I wanted to tell you about the decision that was made slowly. Made over the course of a couple semesters of sleepless nights that I filled with colors and unique faces, while smoke curled around me like infinite halos and various mediums stained my clothes. Life was a blur of coffee, shitty parking spots, endless ideas, negativity, and more coffee… and I remember constantly feeling like I was drowning.
The first couple of semesters of college were a lot like that time I visited Tim Burton’s LACMA exhibit on Halloween night. There was a collected presence of awe enveloping every person there, with hushed whispers and pointed fingers wherever you turned. You could feel a sort of beautiful artistic darkness peaking your curiosity and encouraging your creativity- just daring you to get off your ass and pick up your instrument (you know you want to). That was exactly what my first taste of college felt like. The mixture of uneasiness and excitement; a palpable admiration consistently pouring out of me. My curiosity peaked, my creativity raging, I picked up several instruments.
Artistic instruments are similar to instruments of torture. Both will cause you to marvel; both will cause you to scream. Tools that can be picked up as a result of intense passion or emotion; used to satisfy, control, release, create, and destroy. Both can be difficult, meticulous things- but some will find that they have quite a talent for it. I am not one of those people, and I learned this the hard way.
I like to say that I am an artist of mind, not of talent. The visions that I get and the ideas that my mind creates are masterpieces that I’m sure Tim Burton himself would point at and whisper about. However, when whichever instrument my right hand picks up meets the negative space, it’s as if my brain isn’t sending the correct messages to my hand, causing my brilliant vision to fall flat. I justified trying for an art degree because me “wanting it badly enough” mixed with learning and progressing through college art classes was sure to help me close the gap between me and the truly talented artists around me…right? Wrong.
I truly tried, and I gave my classes the absolute best effort I possibly could. Unfortunately, my absolute best wasn’t enough. My life was a chaotic watercolor blend; the kind that hurts your eyes if you stare at it too long. A tangle of fading friendships, betrayal, assault, experiments, and a rawness that cannot be understood unless you were there. I gave every aspect of life my very best, and continuously fell short. I was drowning in this poisonous concoction of mental health issues, social awakenings, and never being quite enough. The knowledge of not being enough ate at me quickly; attacked me, really, using instruments of torture I never thought possible.
I had to accept the fact that although I had wanted to be a professional artist since I was a small girl, and even though I was trying and practicing and learning, it still was not enough.
And just like that, I’m standing on the balcony of the art department building, blood dotting my jeans all the way through while the watercolors staining my fingers flirt with my lips as I inhale the nicotine that I don’t even really like, and release it back out into the night. I’m crying. Tears and snot awaken the dormant watercolors, leaving stains on the butt. My breath catches on an inhale of smoke, causing the toxic stick to fall while my lungs fight for air. When I’m done coughing, I’m left gasping, not enough air finding me. Things go dark for a while, and eventually I come to- sitting in the corner of the balcony clutching myself, every inch of me clammy, hair sticking to my face.
It took me a while to realize I was developing a panic disorder. It took even longer for me to fully face the fact that an art degree was something that I needed to let go of. This turning point marked the end of my adolescence, because being honest with yourself is a step toward adulthood. This step led me to begin nourishing a part of me that was always there, but sometimes forgotten. The medium that I was always naturally decent at, but didn’t always accept as art because it wasn’t as visually appealing to the eye.
Here I am, over a decade later, utilizing my chosen instrument while my hair remains out of my face and my muscles remain relaxed. And while I may never be the absolute best at it, I am certainly good enough.
Love,
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I can relate to what you describe here, though I did not go to art school. Instead, I was an English major with dreams of writing a bestseller. Maybe it will happen one day, but probably not. Instead, I am sharing my love of reading and writing with my students each day, and that is good enough for me! Your words inspire me to embrace what I am…read more
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This is a reassuring and inspirational post.
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permissionslip submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
The High Turning Point
Sometimes the world offers us many moments of truths. I believe small ones and then life’s cosmic baseball bat. I had just finished leaving a newer job that I thought would offer me a new start. Really starting a domino effect of leaving the apartment and in the area of my dreams. At this point in my life I was pretty oblivious to the amount of change I had put myself through, completely unaware how unhappy I was. After all I had a job, a place, an area I loved and was completely content being on my own.
As I look back I faced a choice to stay at this toxic job and put my head down, but what came out was “I guess I have to go.” To this point the only thing I had left was myself, my cat, and my car. I could hardly believe at the ripe age of 30, the one place I said I’d never go back to was my parents house. The place I felt was a house of horrors.
After being there sometime and no job offers I could feel what little spirit I had dwindle. The toxic environment I had escaped from my job was no match for the birth place of I first felt it, my childhood.
Feeling powerless I decided that even though I had gone most of my life without any medicine I would go for a thc gummy. Not the real deal, but it was enough for my depression and anxiety to be able to face the days. It really became my non prescribed medicine.
After sometime it didnt seem to effect me and things seemed manageable. I decided to meet up with an old friend to have lunch and the time we were supposed to me kept getting pushed back. So I decided Ill just eat some snacks until we get together. When we got together, finally, we smoked. Harmless seeing I thought seeing as I had taken the gummies over time. We finally got inside to eat and waiting in line I started to feel weak. What is this I thought, why do I feel off. My friend ahead of me I said Im feeling weird. Her response was ” you’ll be okay were almost to the front.” I was true, only two people ahead of us. As I stood there my eyesight went black and lost control of my body. I dropped down in space on the hard tile in the middle of the line. Knocking myself unconscious, with the strength I had left I tried to get up and stay awake.
Whisked off personally by my friend I ended up in the hospital. As I was being rolled in I could feel my consciousness coming and going from my body and has no idea if I was dying. Feeling like I was unattached to my body.
This was it, the turning point. The big cosmic baseball bat not only had I put myself in danger, but my friend who had stood by me all the days of my recovery I had traumatized. I had put any friends that had known and family through so much heartache.
Now you as the reader I have told this is the turning point, but really It was just the crescendo of the turning point. I went through a LONG period of denial and continued to do the same thing. In my house hold someone else was battling worse if not the same issues. Triggering in me the same wounds. How could I change in the environment that I felt stuck in?
How did I start without a job, oh not to mention my car stopped working so I could not leave. I decided to walk, and walk, and walk. Eventually I began to reflect, eventually I found a place away from home where I found connections, and those connections led me to church. In that church while almost allergic to being religious I found community. The community offered me support and sponsored me to get free sessions for therapy. I had a safe space finally away from home. From there it snowballed and made a new friend, a friend who had addictions and probably worse. I could tell her the truth without going into a shame spiral and she challenged me to let go along with the other support to let go. To deal with my situation head on and really empower myself to look at where I was and make smalls steps towards dealing with my deep emotions. Discovering an outlet and healthier ways to deal with the life circumstances.
I can’t say that everything is better, but I will say this is the first time in my life Ive stopped running from my past and was forced to face the truth. My past was horrifying, me going back home nothing had changed. But I have! I became a different person then the child they knew.
I’d like to encourage anyone who reads this letter if youre at a turning point, if you’re at a cross roads to get support. To connect with others you can trust, find community wherever you are and lean on them, just like the song says when you’re not strong. It ‘s the first time being independent I had to reach out and learn not everyone hurts you and can the human spirit can touch you in the darkest of places.Voting is closed
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Vanessa, everyone has their vices, but I’m glad that you realized when yours was hurting your health and your mind. For many, that realization comes too late. Your determination to stop running from your past and instead finding support to help you is an inspiration to me. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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Hello Emily!
Thank you for replying to my post!
Its inspiring me to share and to let out in this non judgemental space. I’m really just hoping someone feels seen and that they’re not alone, I’m sure many others too :))You’re welcome!!
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Wow, Vanessa, I am so sorry you went through so much, but I am so glad you are doing better. This line is so powerful, “his is the first time in my life Ive stopped running from my past and was forced to face the truth.” It’s something we all must do at some point in our lives, and while it’s emotional, it’s also very healing and empowering. I…read more
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dulcepelayo submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
The Last Snow Flake in Spring
As seasons come, seasons go.
As spring has sprung, the rivers flow.
A new birth of a weary soul is reborn.
Yet, I sit hit with this heavy thorn.
Hoping that I can find peace and learn what I need to know.From the pain inflicted by the white substance that tore my family apart.
I now sit here writing this poem with a broken heart.
For I once believed I had found what we all long for.
The key to peace and happiness laying behind that familiar yellow door.
But instead, I sit here expressing myself through an emotional form of art.Picking up the pieces has been the most difficult task that I have done.
Yet, I continue to find my place in this world until the day that I am gone.
Finding my path to journey alone on this one-way street,
Is something I will continue to carve out as I stand alone on my own two feet.
And I will rise and shine, and sing until all the songs in me have been sung.For a better tomorrow lays beyond the horizon and beyond the unknown.
For my wings will be set free and spread all on my own.
I am determined to fight the fight and create a new life with purpose and pain free.
So I can show my children what it is that they need to learn and see.
And giving them a pure love to show them that they are not alone.Now I write to escape the reality of what it means to live in pain,
For I fight to keep my mantle free of someone else’s bloody stain,
which feels like a fight that can only be fought by those who are brave,
And I fight for me, as I am the only one I can save.
For this fight is for me to keep myself sane.
And now a new breath of fresh life has been rebirthed,
Knowing that I will never have to look at another blow of white snow.Voting is closed
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Dulce, this poem beautifully describes your journey of letting go of the past and moving forward into the future. Though everyone experiences trauma and disappointment, it impacts each family differently. I’m glad that you are able to move past your trauma and give your children a home full of love and support. That is all we can hope for as…read more
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jismar submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
A Turn to Faith
Everyone has a past
But when the past seeps into the present
We face the repercussions & cultivate resentments
I have no direction
Unable to pinpoint what brings my life satisfaction
I’m consumed with anxiety, impatience & even aggression
When do I find that which calms me
Brings my entire existence it’s longing serenityFor I was searching, searching
A rock to ground
A hand to hold
I’m losing grip
Not a grasp on my soul
Through the motions I flow, rather fall
Attempting to prevent a downward spiralNo one to save me
The Lord is my Savior
If I sin, will He still tolerate my behavior
Mistakes forgiven, still on Earth living
If & when my purpose is fulfilled
Does my soul contract submit me to Hell
To have been high as a kite or down on bended knee
I hope He knows I’ve lived life genuinely
If to live 100 years or die tomorrow
This life had meaning because it’s He who gave me
A life absorbed by love, family, & humility
Despite the trauma & downfall
I have risen above because He’s helped me conquer all
In my lowest, weakest point I struggled to see the light
But yet I heard Him say hold on as much as I might
Entrusting in the process & willful strength was met with my own doubt
To have never seen the light
I was certain I’d end this life withoutFace to face with my tower moment
My demons making their presence known
My back uncovered
My vulnerable side shown
With nothing & no one
Even rock bottom was a stranger
Mustering the strength & courage was distant but not foreign
Never would I have to summon it to this magnitude
Changing everything within me from my mindset to my habits to my attitude
Rebirthing into the person He knew I could be
He had the answers all along when the negativity refrained my vision to seeNow in my future, I see the light
Not THAT light, but happiness which knows no bounds
My worries & fears are weightless
It’s as if I’m floating off the ground
I couldn’t be where I am today
Without a little faith, grace & a daily prayThis was the point everything changed
The point where it was every wrong turn but still the right path
To have only now found He & my angels
It was me against the enemy right from the start
Attempting to reign chaos on my mind & my heart
Nonetheless do I have appreciation for the struggle yes
But now to live my life with Him in succession
I am untouchable in the most humbling sense
I am able to resonate at a higher vibration
I can now entrust that I live my life to its fullest ascensionVoting is closed
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Jiselle, this lovely poem resonates with me! Sometimes, I too feel like I’m falling and losing my grasp on my life. When this happens, turning to God is the only way I can find peace. When we realize that He is the answer, life becomes a lot sweeter. Thank you for inspiring me to remember this!
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Beautiful, Inspiring, In my darkest times I realized he was still with me .
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jcarew98 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
"The First Words Spoken"
In the hall of college, where Arms strong rested across the chairs,
Students, done with classes came to see a show with time to spare,
“Testing, Testing. Y’all know what time it is. It’s Open Mic Night!”
I was just grabbing a burger and a friend met me mid-bite.“Last call, last call! Is there another performer?”
“Hey, don’t you write? I saw poems in your class drawer.”
I winced and said “Yeah, but I don’t know for today-”
“Hey, he wants to go! He’s the Langston Hughes of today!”I glared at my friend, but I took my notes and read,
Emotions flared, the students froze with their phones left unread,
At the end of the words, the hall rose and cheered,
To the friend that made this night possible?…. I still glared.
This kickstarted me to write poetry,
Oh, what a new world that’s opened up for me!Voting is closed
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Nnamdi, I am so glad that your friend forced you to perform your poetry in front of others! Now, you can share your talent with the world. Sometimes, we need that push from someone who cares about us to get us to branch out. Even though it is uncomfortable at first, letting go of our insecurities and embracing what we have to offer is always worth…read more
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penny submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
Aligning with God: Sacred Intimacy
Born on the beautiful island of Bermuda during a cozy December
I have been mindful of God for as long as I can remember
Raised with love in our family home
Thanks to my parents, the Spirit of God I’ve always known.Later, living in the United States, I attended a mindful movement class
With no clue how much its impact would last
I wasn’t sure how the class would flow
But I felt drawn to it and knew I had to go.I profoundly felt the presence of God on my exercise mat
Experiencing sacred intimacy in a way I’ll never forget
Using body, mind, soul, and spirit to connect with Him
This is where my turning point begins…My intimacy with God this way steadily increased
Sacred, relaxing, and full of Christ-centered peace
It led me to become a movement instructor and ‘minister on the mat’
Helping others pause, consciously breathe, and soulfully connectWith God of the universe
And the Holy Spirit within
With the One who sent His son, Jesus
To forgive and erase our sins.Blending movement with stillness along with God’s word
A new mission for me was what I heard
Guiding others to relax their shoulders and straighten their backs
While engaging their abdominals to strengthen the core
Using the physical to go spiritually deeper with God to know Him more.This turning point became a love language between God and me
Blessing me to spiritually see
The beauty of God moving within
And that physical movement could also be a vehicle for following Him.Rooted in this mission like a tree
God and me
We got to going
The wind was blowing…Taking me to the training, credentials, and opportunities to teach this way
This perspective on life was a brand new day
Combining the elements of work and play
And today, I am here to say:Speaking this embodied love language with God
Wasn’t what I initially sought
Until experiencing the process of slowing all the way down
And anchoring my feet on God’s solid ground.Aligned like a charm
My soul felt calm
Spirit illuminated
Body and mind invigorated.Then…
Poetic prayers eventually became a solid part of my voice
A blessed, sweet, and playful choice
Communicating with God in such a way
That He feeds me the words to write and say.Aligning with Him as a spiritual poet
I know His voice. I know it; I know it.
A vessel of His poetry to help others and me be free
To become clear about what God has created us to be.With that clarity, purpose beautifully unfolds
Stories of turning points are written and told
Divine connection leads us to become bold!My boldness—A manuscript, “Rhyming with God,” was recently birthed
Pages with poetic prayers and reflections about positive worth
A publishing offer has been given to me
So, in 2025, readers will see…My intimacy with God poetically expressed
A relationship with Jesus nurtured by holy rest
Life with the One who is the very best
Who meets us where we’re at and helps us through any test.Whether writing or on the mat
I give God all the glory, honor, and utmost respect
Purposed by Him with roles that feel like a dream
Some days I’m so excited I could joyfully scream.Embodied intimacy with God is of a special kind
Aligning with Him, we’ll peacefully find
Life outside of the daily grind
And restoration for the body, soul, spirit, and mind.Thank You, God, for the lessons of many kinds
Thank You for allowing me to find
The paths to go, the ways to flow
And how to know, and know, and know—You!Voting is closed
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Penny, first of all, congratulations on your work being published! That is amazing and I’m sure it brings you so much happiness. I am so inspired by your love for God and your dedication to serving him. While I’ve never attended a mindful movement class, I may just have to check it out. Thank you for sharing!
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Dear Emmy, thank you so much for your touching note! I greatly appreciate your congratulations and the reasons you said you were inspired. You have also inspired me!🤗🙏🏼
Yes, I am excited and grateful about my work being published in 2025. “Rhyming with God” will further show what you stated–my “love for God” and my “dedication to serving him.”…read more
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kelsea submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
Melting Ice Cubes
To stop drowning
You must go under
To pull yourself out
You must sink deeper
To get back to her
You must defy protectionA predator is frozen in her path
She can’t see around him
She can’t see the world waiting for her beyond him
She can’t see that he is stuck, not herBecause you left her behind
And it was too hard to go backTo wake her
To call to her
You must feel it
All of it
Until your body remembers
Until you’re with her
Until your one againThen, she is called home
Voting is closed
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Kelsea, this poem is a powerful representation of the process of realizing that in order to move forward, we must let go of what holds us back. I agree that in order to save ourselves from the depths of our pain, we have to acknowledge it and face it head on. I love your line that says “he is stuck, not her”. Too often, we think we are stuck in…read more
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shedevildee submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
*Background Oohs & Aahs*
The crack to the skull
A bleed in the brain
Death shook me
She called-
Addressed me by name
Stood above so I could see
My Rome in vanityMomentum increased
Pillars collapsed
Every image stumbled
Shattered & crumbled
Unmasked & raw
Only held at the seamsThe life I once knew -In pieces at my feet
Outstretched for miles, it resembled defeat
Yet the weight lifted & she drew her first breath
Emerged from the rubble, an image pristineA glimpse of what was to come
To accept the unbroken
Was to conspire to murder
The audible & unspokenThe purpose & the drive
Debilitating all at once
Breathed into me new life
& undiscovered fronts
In honor of the indelible
What once was, exists in memory
What is yet to be – a blank slate
Out of mind, as it should be
But in my hands all the same
The moment she spoke my nameVoting is closed
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Dee, your poem is truly inspiring. I love how you compare the fall of Rome to your own “fall” before being reborn into something stronger. The image your reborn self emerging from the rubble is powerful. Even the most damaging experience can lead to something stronger. Thank you for sharing your experience!
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You have been through soooo much and yet you always manage to get back up and rise higher. You are an incredible soul. Sending hugs. <3 Lauren
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anvitasinha123gmail-com submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
A doctor’s appointment for my soul
Doctor, I have an infection.
I demand cryogenic freezing—medicated comas that fix what’s broken.
or keep what’s broken lost.
Peter Pan took my nerves and the Pied Piper made me dance to someone else’s tune.
Every step of my life pains me, doctor.
Except the ones where my little sister followed.
Doctor, my eye, its own beast, so discerning it needs a permanent tarsorrhaphy.
and my mouth, the silly thing, is a refrigerator spoiling and spilling its leftovers
Oh and this throat, traps screams dutifully, while it looks for its noose.
I am begging for a tracheostomy.
If those anesthetic dreams would fit between my ribs
maybe they would squeeze my heart until it beat on its own.
I would sleep forever
if my dreams would have me.
This despair is not the issue however.
I am diseased with loving.
My affliction is my little sister’s eyes not leaving me in my dreadful dreams.
Even worse, in my favorite ones, those eyes watch me, where
I step in front of the light at the end of the tunnel and
wait for that train bringing my end.
Doctor, her laugh is the burn of liquor to an addict
It’s the best part of the whole, damned thing,
that cloyingly sweet aftertaste which keeps you coming back for more.
That makes dragging steps become a joyful run.
And makes me wait for a future instead of an end.
My little sister looked at me in my new college apartment one last time
like she expected me to come back to her.
So, doctor, I changed my mind.
I’ll keep running even when she’s not in my sight.
Exercise is good for the soul, after all.Voting is closed
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Anvita, the imagery in this poem is so powerful. The way you describe your “affliction” of loving your little sister left me speechless. Sometimes, letting go is easier than loving. Closing our eyes and letting our dreams overtake us seems like a better option. I’m glad that you have your sister to keep you moving forward. Thank you for sharing…read more
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d0g07zf submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
Taking My Power Back
Growing up I was abused spiritually, verbally, physically, emotionally and the unspoken. Being quiet and fulfill the needs of others taught me how to survive in toxic environments, but it was never stopped the abuse. My entire belief system was built on the foundation of pleasing people. I believed I wasn’t good enough. Love was supposed to be unrequited- at least for me.
Though I never learned to put my own needs first, I had a secret. I never stopped dreaming, hoping and believing for unconditional love. As I got older I searched for this unicorn named unconditional love, but to no avail. I found comfort in unhealthy habits that provided artificial happiness.
Then I had children. They became my light in the darkness. I vowed to always protect them from things that I endured and ensure they had a great life. However, my belief system didn’t change. As a result, the trauma seeped into my children and infected our family dynamic. I saw what was happening, but felt powerless to change it. It was a sinking ship with no life jackets. Whatever I tried was never enough, so I worked harder. I got more jobs. More work meant less quality time, but they had material things and spent a lot of time with other people.
Over time the relationships I developed via family, friends or lovers grew worse.
I felt hopeless. One day, the inevitable happened. I discovered that my beloved children were experiencing abuse in various forms, even the unspeakable. I wanted to vanquish myself from the Earth. I fought to give them freedom, but continued cycles.
I was consumed with anger and depression at the thought of failing them. Everyone blamed me. Not the person who violated them, but me. Sadly, I blamed myself too.
While I spent time away from them during the investigation I had a choice to make. I could wallow or move forward. It required a lot of introspection. I moved into a shelter. I had lost everything I tried to hold on to and just had me. Me and the universe. How did I get here? Through therapy and meditation I soul searched. Inner child healing was necessary, but painful.
The next step was to speak up. It took courage to testify. I was horrified reliving the events and hearing my autistic daughter tell her truth. I had to ensure she got justice others refused to me. I made a statement and closed a painful chapter in my book.
Though I am still rebuilding and reparenting myself, I am grateful for my journey. I am grateful to the universe. I am grateful to myself for believing that I was worthy to heal my trauma. The hardest part wasn’t testifying, asking forgiveness or taking accountability, but learning to forgive myself. I had to forgive myself for neglect, rebuild my entire belief system and visualize a different perspective. I take care of myself now because I love me. I spend more time with my children and enjoy life’s journey. Who knew that playing uno, park visits and baking cookies together could heal so many wounds? What was meant to destroy me has become a motivation for real change in all aspects of my life. I am grateful I will never be the same.
Although I was able to stand up for my daughter, there are many children who will never see their justice. Issues like this are hidden dark secrets. Although I cannot save them, I can encourage others to speak up and to heal themselves. I have found many creative avenues to do it. I hope that my story will encourage others to find their voices too. Save themselves. Take their power back. The more we speak out, the braver we become.
This is only the beginning…Voting is closed
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I cannot imagine being in your shoes. Going through unspeakable abuse yourself and knowing how detrimental to the soul it is is hard enough, but then knowing that your children experienced it as well is crushing. It sounds like you are the kind of mother who fights for her babies and gives them a voice when they have none. I hope I can be that…read more
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Thank you that really means a lot. It was add to share this story because at one point I felt like I failed, but I was able to see the bigger picture.
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ddorsey submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
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michael74656 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
I Tore My Soul Out Today
I tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
Teaching was the goal I had
Since I was a little lad
Helping others to achieve
Was my purpose, I believe
But then ideology
Frustrated pedagogy
The choice for me became clear-
My kind was not wanted here
Thus I chose to walk away
And tore out my soul todayI tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
Students deserve honesty
Teachers with integrity
Discussing our history
Told to lie so they won’t see
The truth about prior pain
So the abuse can remain
With the truth play loose and fast
So we can repeat the past
Thus I chose to walk away
And tore out my soul todayI tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
Politicians monger fear
Demonize for all to hear
Students who don’t fit their mold
“So call them out” I am told
Put them at risk of abuse
Parents, peers, teachers, a noose
Pretend that they don’t exist
Convince them they won’t be missed
Thus I chose to walk away
And tore out my soul todayI tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
If truth you wish to discern
Science is the way to learn
Enabling discovery
Dodge cognitive fallacy
Contradict what they hold true
Though they be wrong, they can sue
You will soon be out the door
And able to teach no more
Thus I chose to walk away
And tore out my soul todayI tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
Ten Commandments on the walls
Bible verses in the halls
Bow your head, it’s time to pray
Everyone in the same way
You’re entitled to your beliefs
Public schools aren’t your fiefs
Teach them to your own children
And not someone else’s kin
Thus I chose to walk away
And tore out my soul todayI tore my soul out today
I could see no other way
Underfunded; called disgrace
Education’s aim efface
Keep them stupid and oppressed
They ban the books they detest
Analyze and synthesize
And you can see through the lies
Education is the key
To upward mobility
But I had to walk away
And tore my soul out todayVoting is closed
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Michael, I am an educator and I feel what you wrote in my soul. I haven’t walked away, but I understand those that do. As teachers, all we want is to help our students learn and grow, but what and how we teach seems to be dictated by people that haven’t stepped foot in a classroom. I’m sure you were a phenomenal teacher, and I am saddened that you…read more
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As a fellow teacher, I feel your struggle here. Love how you phrased leaving the profession as “tearing out your soul.” I completely understand the decision as there’s not much room left for soul in the “business” of education these days. I hope you find that that soul within you is indestructible and there’s a new home awaiting it out there.…read more
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jmarieh73 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
Turning Point: The Power of Presence
Oh the things I’ve had to survive…
Always weathering the storm; at what point do I thrive?
My experience did not equate to my deeds.
But I kept my dignity; could not bargain nor plead.
Yet I became sick, wondering how one could leave…
A new, single mother; another mouth to feed.
Nothing left to do but pause, make art, and follow His Lead.
Suspended in space; a moment of peace…
My heart beating fast; still no relief.
No time to cry or wonder why.
‘But oh, my darling, you are the eye.’
Nothing left to chase; no where left to go; no new ways to numb.
A look in the mirror; ‘Lord, what have I become?’
So disassociated; everyone must know…
Yet back into my body I go…
How scary? How almost unsafe?
‘Holy Mary…’ I connected with grace.
I made the world go quiet; kept my circle small…handed over my fears; cut any attention towards what could befall.
What a beautiful trinity; mother, child, and God.
Untouchable to any force that could poke or prod.
‘Go through your flow,’ I say to my class…with access to child’s pose; access to rest… With sovereignty, autonomy…too blessed to stress.
I considered the birthrights of peace and of breath… one hand on my belly; the other on my chest.
Access to my birthrights at any and all times; the power of presence was suddenly mine.
Permission to be new; permission to choose.
On the mat there is nothing to prove.
A look in my daughter’s eyes; she is everything I admire.
Such joy to relish in, before I expire.Voting is closed
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Jacqueline, I love how you describe the “beautiful trinity” of a mother, her child, and God. It is so true that nothing can break the strength that is created through that bond. When I’m feeling defeated, I only have to look into the eyes of my babies to know that I have the power to fight whatever demon is out to get me. Thank you for sharing your story!
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steinmann submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
This post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
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msimmons submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
The Unforgiving Minute
This is me trying. Trying to find a new way, recognizing that the old way wasn’t working. Leaving behind an old identity. An old set of rules in favor of a new birth, rebirth, aggressively sought after alternative ending. I’m emerging as a new person, despite my unrelenting efforts to cling to what was.
Two months ago, I risked it all when I abandoned life as a lawyer, the only life I’d ever known. The life I’d spent decades building at the expense of so many important moments and memories. Since law school orientation, I’d worked overtime trying to orient my mind around the reality that I’d never be like them, bending and breaking myself to blend into a world that made no effort to accept me. It never fit. Or rather, I never fit.
So, I quit. And left my job to become a writer. I risked a step away from a carefully curated career in favor of a move toward an existence that would actually set my soul on fire. I made bold proclamations about not going back and cautiously counted coins and considered logistics, ways I’d support my family in the “in between.”
I thought on it. I prayed on it. I cried about it. I built momentum and discovered joy during daunting days of exploration. I found myself, lost her again, and laughed at the beauty of the journey. I spoke in a loud voice, one years in the making and I summoned the confidence to risk it all…again…and burn it to the ground, with the hopes of emerging from the ashes a battle tested phoenix. And I felt calmer than I expected.
Two months ago, I cut ties with reliable income, pronounced paths, predictable promotions, private planes, and bank-breaking bonuses. Two months ago, I bet on me. And I went to bed at night excited about who I was becoming, eager (for the first time) at the start of each day. I felt fulfilled. Full. Focused. Certain.
Two months ago, I ended it on my terms.
Three days later, I went out for a run and woke up in an ambulance. Brain injured. Memory erased. Creative vision demolished. Dreams crushed. Speech altered. Disoriented and disillusioned, I opened my eyes to the end of my new life. The death of my fresh start. The denial of the woman I’d fought to become.
Three days later, I realized that the fight was only just beginning when life brought me to my knees. Three days later, I cried real tears that burned my face and blurred my vision as they exited my weary eyes. Three days later, I realized that the best laid plans are, at times, the ones you must painfully and practically cast to the side.
Three days later, my life changed forever.
But today, I write again. I’ve picked up the pen to see what I can produce. This is my redemption story. Ending unknown.
This is me, bloody, bruised, but brave. This is me not easily broken. This is me, trying…
Voting is closed
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I’m rooting for you! Your comeback is going to be greater than ever! You trying is already more than most people can muster up in a lifetime! Keep going! ❤️
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That means more than you can possibly understand. Thank you so much for your kind words and encouragement!
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Malaika, your story is so powerful and I just know that you are going to find what you need. I am impressed by your willingness to push forward and keep trying, even when it isn’t easy. I can’t imagine the defeat you felt when you had your accident, but the fact that you are brave enough to persevere is amazing. Thank you for sharing your story!
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Emmy, thank you so so much for your kind words. You have no idea how much I appreciate the encouragement. Thank you for reading my story and for your reply. It warmed my heart and was just the push I needed to keep going today. All my best!
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OMG Malaika, This is so well-written. I am so sorry about the accident.Were you hit by a car? I am glad you are getting back up again and writing. This piece is incredible and a true testament that you are on the right path – even though you had a major detour. Sending hugs <3 Lauren
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all5212 submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
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w_utever submitted a contest entry to
Write a poem (or letter) about a turning point in your life 4 months ago
my portals in life
brushing my hand against the coarse grain
brings back memories of yesterday
the old wood was painted white
nimbly finished with imperfectionsthrough the frosted glass center
a soft glowing light would show
the warm compassionate touch
that lightly soothes me to sleepi never minded the creak of the hinge
or how imprecise the handle was,
i miss it’s slanted suspension
and how you would lift to latch itthe wood that replaced it
was polished to perfection
and standardized like the rest;
no different than others of it’s kindthere was no glass i could gaze through
the knob would click with precision
however it had a surprising charm
brought by memories of passing throughi assumed that this frame
would be the last i pass through
but life had different stories
and characters to introduceeventually i became burned out,
fatigued and growing indifferent
for the different walkways
i had been nudged intohesitant to try something new
the lock remained sealed to the outside
yet a light filters though the cracks
slowly enticing me for morefinally i have become comfortable
with the volatile directions
and i wonder what’s the next door
that i walk through in lifeVoting is closed
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Andrew, I like the way you describe the choices we make and paths we take in life. Some doors we choose lead to places that we never should have ended up, but we have to deal with the consequences of those decisions. Other times, the doors lead us to our destiny. Thank you for sharing your powerful poetry!
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You can never know which door opens up and what is behind it, only way to find out is by stepping through it.
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