Can the entire ocean
all be swallowed by my eyes.
If I make it to the moon,
will I then feel left behind.
Is there an end to the world,
that is decided by time.
Will I see beauty so great,
that I truly must go blind.
At the end of the last road,
will at least all colors rhyme.
I fear the war will not stop,
these enemies in my mind.

By. Lauren

I love what I do so very much but I don't know if what I do loves me back.
My love for poetry wraps around my heart and squeezes it until it struggles to beat onward.
I love writing poetry.
But does poetry love me writing it?

Bold conversations
That I’ll probably come to regret.
In a beer-less bar
With only apple juice to comfort.