I can not write a poem, my brain feels fried.
It can do no more.
It is as though all my creativity has been trapped, isolated in a room without a door.
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 4:15 AM UTC
Our minds are a memory album
Where the past and present meet,
Memories we lovingly cling to
That make the heart skip a beat.
Some we would like to forget.
Some we love to treasure.
Some memories become precious gifts
That live on forever and ever.
Yes, memories are precious moments,
And I have quite a few,
The memories I treasure the most
Are those I made with you.
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 4:50 AM UTC
I'm good enough,
I don't care what you say,
I'm proud of what,
I accomplished today.
I tried my best,
which makes me feel good,
I did much better,
than I thought I could.
Why do you criticize
and make me feel small?
Does it feel better,
when I stumble and fall?
Well, I'm here to tell you,
that I wont let your words hurt.
Because when I fall,
I'll just pick myself up from the dirt.
Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 2:48 AM UTC