This poetry site used to mean
Quite a lot to me,
But recently all that I've seen
Is not what used to be.

Perhaps this site is dying,
Like the fragment of my soul,
Which has given up with trying
To love this unpoetic hole.

"Five–O-two, Bad gateway"
Is mostly what I read,
And the same **** poems every day
Appearing on my feed.

This used to be a lovely place
To connect and to explore,
But now I accept it's lost it's grace,
And this site's done for, for sure.

I hope in time they'll fix it,
And this site will be restored,
But, 'till then, I will not risk it;
So I'll leave on my own accord.

when it rains, I listen to the rain
when the wind blows, I listen to the movement of the wind
when a friend speaks, I listen to their heart

when I walk, I am a part of what is around me
when I sing, I create for others and myself
when I love, I am love


when we choose love, we are love

If I could miss you any more I would,
But –truth is– that I also missed myself,
Far more than any other possibly could,
And I needed time to focus on my health.

If you could see inside my mind,
You'd understand why I could not have stayed,
To watch you fawn, and worry, and be kind,
And stay to watch my mind degrade.

Sometimes an absence may be for the best;
A step too far is far worse than a step delayed,
If that was wrong I feared to put it to the test;
A friendship missed is better than a friend betrayed.

In the morning..
The sun starts to burn the fog away..
I was not suppose to be here..
But I was..
I was in the meadow where the Sentinels reside..
The guardians of light and dark..
Light and dusk angels..
They walk around the morning fog and enjoy the peace..