What makes me horribly gut-wrenchingly sad,
is that at my weakest moments,
I didn’t even think I deserved my tears.
Like somehow,
in the grand scheme of things,
My pain isn’t validated.
Others have suffered worse,
Why should I think I deserve to cry?
What a low place to fall.
That even my agony was a Flaw.

You can't hold the short arm of the clock
and call it yesterday.

Most humans drink coffee and wine
They consume television and mainstream novels
They feed their souls with popularity contests and safe relationships

But poets
We could not survive without passion, intensity, and meaning
Everything we feel is felt to the depths of our souls
We are the ones to put into words the unspeakable pain of heartbreak
The incomprehensible joy of falling in love
We are the ones brave enough to say out loud the diaries of a thousand souls

Us poets
We drink tea and whiskey

We all paint our lives.
The mountains of challenges,
The rivers of tears,
The waterfalls of joy.

We mix the colours of sorrow and laughter
And add the colours of experience and the years that passed.
The souls we will always remember
And the moments we will never forget.