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In moments of quiet, pen becomes my guide,  
With ink I trace the thoughts that softly flow,  
Each line a truth that I can now confide,  
In written form, my inner voice can grow.  

The page, a canvas where my heart takes flight,  
In verse I find a language known and dear,  
A structure formed, to shape my dreams in light,  
An accepted frame that draws my vision clear.  

To weave my stories in a rhythmic dance,  
Is freedom found within the written word,  
In every sentence, there's a second chance,  
To paint my soul where only silence was heard.  

So let me write, for here I truly stand,  
With every phrase, carved by my own hand.
In desperate hope that some others understand, that the importance of words is surprisingly grand.
This was fun to write! 😁
In the depths of depression,  
when the world feels heavy,  
a small gesture,  
a warm smile,  
can lift the weight.  

Offer a hand,  
share a moment,  
plant a seed of kindness  
in someone else's heart.  

In giving, we find light,  
as the darkness loosens its grip,  
and together,  
we rise,  
woven in the simple threads  
of compassion.
I've found that when I'm feeling EXTREMELY depressed it really helps to first, list out loud 12 things I'm thankful for (anything from my bed, to my parents, friends, roof over my head...a person could list hundreds if you thought hard enough) also I try to think of something nice to do for someone. Anyone. I've found it sometimes more rewarding to anonymously bless someone. I dunno, if you can use these suggestions to your benefit, than please do...it seriously helps me, at least for a while, when I'm extremely low. 🤷
Ink flows on the page
Whispers of stories so bold
Time held in each line
Revealing past deeds untold
Words act as a guage
Of our thoughts, from young to old
Baring through the age
When gazing on words untold
By turning each page
Growth of ideas unfold
Structured as a 5:7:5 haiku, but I tried to make it rhyme.
It’s not the heartbreak that screams.
It’s the silence that follows.
The way someone becomes a stranger
while their memories still live in your chest.
How they laugh with others the way they used to with you—
and you pretend it doesn’t sting.
You act okay.
You smile.
But inside, you're mourning someone who’s still alive,
just no longer yours.
In shadows deep, where sorrows lie,
The cuts we bear, they teach us why.
With every tear, a tale unfolds,
Of strength reborn and hearts turned bold.
Through laughter’s light, and whispers low,
We mend the wounds the world bestows.
Each bandage wrapped with care and grace,
Transforms our scars, reveals our face.
So cast aside the weight of rue,
For every hurt has crafted you.
Embrace the past, let shadows fade,
In every cut, our spirit's made.
The manner in which we respond to trials and tribulations shapes our patterns of behavior and our general attitude and perspective on life.
In youth we see the world through bright, bold eyes,  
Each thought a treasure wrapped in dreams untold.  
The sky seems near, the sun a grand surprise,  
We chase the winds, our hearts forever bold.  

But as the years unfold, the truth draws near,  
With every lesson, shadows cast their light.  
From shifting sands, we learn to face our fear,  
And what was once a dream now feels so right.  

A gentle grace within the heart does grow,  
As wisdom whispers softly in our ear.  
Perspective bends, reveals what we can't know,  
And through each change, we hold the past most dear.  

For learning shapes the mind, the soul, the view,  
And in this dance of time, we start anew.
I've heard it said that wisdom comes with age. I agree with this in general. Probably would be more accurate to say, with experience comes familiarity and usually insight and wisdom if one reacts appropriately to what one experiences. But it doesn't have the same catchy ring to it, like "with age comes wisdom." So, yeah. Whatever. I love you all. God bless. And hang in there. You aren't alone in your suffering and I share in the joy you express (and often the suffering too). ❤️✝️
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