In the city’s busy streets,
People gather, calm and neat,
An old man holds a sign, “Paz”,
Hoping for a world that lasts.
Flags of red and gold they bear,
Walking with a peaceful air,
Together, they make their plea,
For a world where all are free.
Buildings tall, they stand and see,
Dreams of peace and unity,
Step by step, the message grows,
Through the streets, the hope it shows.
The old man with his simple sign,
Shows us all a hopeful line,
Peace and hope, they gently sing,
To make a better world, they bring.
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 8:47 AM UTC
open door, open page
hello, poetry.
i’ve been writing
in the quiet corners of my life
on napkins, in notebooks,
sometimes just in my head
before sleep takes it all away.
i’m not here to impress.
i’m here to belong.
to share something real,
even if it’s a little broken,
even if it’s just
a breath
that made it to paper.
i read you,
and it feels like home
i haven’t entered yet.
if there’s room for one more voice
in your wild, honest garden
i’m here.
i’m ready.
just say yes.
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 5:45 AM UTC