Passing by the old oak tree
You see a carved heart there
from you and me
Little did we know back then
that with a carved heart
It would also end.


Shell✨🐚

falling autumn leaves
teaches art of letting go
time is the healer.
4/2/2021

Teaches you a lot in life,
A hungry  stomach,
Empty pockets and
A broken heart.
6/2/2021

Melodies are poetry,
you are poetry,
his eyes were poetry,
and my hands are made of words,
                                                            stanzas,
                                                                          and figurative language.
It's hard to breathe and not think of a poem.

"Dust if you must,"
but I will not.

I will live life,
as life is a poem.
And I won't stop until each word is written,
all the pages are used up,
and no stanzas are left to be finished.

No words left unsaid,
because an unfinished poem is like a life abandoned,
as is a guitar song cut off in the middle,
and his eyes losing their glisten.

Whats wanted isn't always needed
What's needed isn't always wanted

I know they look like sunrises and sunsets, but I was painting you.
When I painted all the rivers that lead to the oceans, and the glorious starry nights, and the flowers; the sublime orchids and the tender roses.
In the end
and from the beginning,
I was painting you.