In the glow of screens,
we gathered,
Farmville requests from aunts,
a world of laughter,
simple joys shared like sunlight,
photos blooming like flowers,
each snapshot a moment held close.
But shadows crept in,
voices grew louder,
arguments ignited in the digital crowd,
once a haven for stories and cheer,
now a battleground,
where fear and anger drown out connection.
Oh, to step back,
to mute the noise,
to cherish the small moments,
to find joy in simplicity.
Can we learn to listen?
To hold our space with care?
To share our truths without fear of judgment?
Imagine a world where we pause,
where empathy reigns and understanding flows.
Let’s reclaim the joy of a simple post,
the warmth of shared memories,
the bonds that matter most.
If we could remember how to talk again—
to share our lives without the weight of expectation,
to celebrate each other’s stories as our own.
Maybe then we can find our way back,
to laughter and support,
to kindness woven through our words.
And maybe one day,
we will step into that light again—
not as warriors in an endless fight,
but as friends seeking connection,
hearts open to the beauty of being together.

A Poem By: Reece Ellison

Demons,
Everyone has them, hidden just behind their eyes,
And if you squint, you’ll find what they try to hide.
As the tears flow,
And their heart begins to open,
You’ll realize.
That part of being human,
Is suffering behind a smile.

Your head can tell you many things,
Not all of it is true,
But you’ll convince yourself,
That there’s nothing you can do.
Your mind can be your greatest friend,
Or your greatest foe,
A pain people can try to relate to,
But it’s one only you’ll truly know.

Pain,
Everybody has it, hidden just behind their eyes,
And if you squint, you’ll find what they try to hide.
As the tears start to flow,
And their heart begins to open,
You’ll realize,
That part of being human,
Is crying yourself to sleep at night.

Sometimes when you open up,
And you try to explain the abstraction of your pain,
People tend to take it,
Laugh at it,
Break it into pieces,
And wonder why you’re hurt.
People can be cruel,
They leech off of each other all the time,
Harm someone for the benefit of themselves,
Never understanding the other side of their actions.

Scars,
Everybody has them, hidden just behind their eyes,
And if you squint, you’ll find what they try to hide.
As the tears start flowing,
And their heart starts opening,
You’ll realize,
That part of being human,
Is masking anguish inside.

I think I have a wound deep down,
I don’t know where it is,
But I know it hurts.
I see things more pessimistically than I did a few years before.
Maybe that’s just cause I’m changing,
If so I wish it would’ve stayed the way it was before.
Sometimes I wonder if my presence changes a thing.
If I were gone, would it matter at all?
For a day, or a week, or a month, does it make a difference at all?
Perhaps that’s a stupid thought to wonder.
I’m no longer fooled when people try to act nice.
I see them for what they are,
A wolf in sheep’s clothing,
Trying to hurt an aching soul to save their own.

Fears,
Everybody has one, hidden just behind their eyes,
And if you squint, you’ll find what they try to hide.
As the tears pool dripping,
And their heart starts breaking,
You’ll realize,
That being human,
Is being afraid of what tomorrow will bring.

This may sound foolish,
And I know it is,
But I’m afraid of change,
Chronically afraid.
May be why I’m so anxious,
Watching things speed by so quick,
Whilst I’m left wondering:
Where did it all go?
I think I’m rather boring,
And nobody knows me better than me.
Introducing the fear of being alone,
Praying it doesn’t end up becoming real.

Demons,
Everyone has them, hidden just behind their eyes,
And if you squint, you’ll find what they try to hide.
And as my tears start flowing,
And my heart begins to open,
I hope you’ll realize,
That part of being human,
Is filled with pain and strife,
And sometimes,
Feels harder than it’s worth.

coffee rings stain the tablecloth
empty creamer pods pile up by the silverware.
the old man finishes his omelet off
while his grandson rocks in his chair.
the new dads outside smoke and cough
avoiding their wives' disapproving glare.
the waitress sits me at a tabletop
and I take in the fullness of the air.
the light in the room takes me like a moth
a moment fleeting is still a moment worth the care.
I eat breakfast every Saturday at Roth's
this diner where all our stories are shared.

Every street is glowing with lamps and lights.
Dark nights bloom softly, like a new bride.
Who married a man
Who firstly killed her innocence, then her sight.
Moons and stars are watching these fools,
Killing the outer dark with their blurry rules.
They laugh at them, wondering how they survive,
Glowing from the outside, but dark inside.

Are they really respecting their gods, or only showing off?
Firstly, they make life tough, then say we have no hope.
To make one god happy is justifying making another mad;
They say it’s a victory of good over bad.
But with open eyes, they can’t see clear—
Good and bad are both as close as near.
Who is the devil? Who is God?
Isn’t the devil also created by the Lord?