Let him go
maybe he is not right for you.

Let him forget about you
maybe he doesn't deserves you

Forgive maybe
It’s never meant to be.

Love isn't ended for ***
Love doesn't ended for beauty,

If everything tolerates cause of bed
It’s a just only for ****** bodies

If all the wants caused from beauty
It’s only wants in the eyes
That likes the appearance
but it doesn't keep you there

Love is not just a clothes to changed
The partner doesn’t a clothes
The relationships doesn’t things
If found someone else better
It might be replace by someone

There was something
could never seen and realized

The faith and trust
within in relationships
Are there for so long

You build the faith
for only one person
but if it's broken relations
could ruins useless

Nothing was separation for love
but you can forgive.

Love is not a sin
The sin was always a sin
Maybe sin is a death
but if you did the sin
you will be away from the love
that couldn't turn back.

Once did cross a way
you can't go back to make it right.

If you only focus to something love
but not your self.
The love you always gives is wasted
and nothing could appreciate it

You give what it wants
but you still be happy with someone else,
You can love but you can't
caused you love someone else.

Its hard to think that you are gone
My heart became broken
but I become stronger

The feelings hasn’t work out
but chosen to leave than to stay

This love hasn’t worth
The love is inestimable
for the person who is given love
But I should give it away
than to force to be mine

There’s always a tears to cry
Because you are mine
But wen I learn to let go
And I give up for you

This hurts sets me free

No more tears to cry
No more karma to crucified
No more sacrifices from the pain
No more hurts from the suffering

The Heart isn’t rebound
can’t catch different things
bond from the pulled and cut
because of your love for someone else

Everything has a right to be happy
Everything has a reasons
Though that it’s hurting
But it can be given

Something has set things free
Someone can give happiness

There's nothing to lose
and nothing else to do
If I let you go
I let go.

Always amazed by the changing sky,
Maybe I’m the poet you pass by.
Colors dance as the day waves goodbye,
Whispers of verses in clouds up high.

Sky blushes pink, I wander by,
of drifting dreams now singing,
through fireflies that dance and fly,
The wind hums softly, a lullaby.

Raindrop on a leaf, I’m loaded by,
of murmured verses singing,
A bird is chirping from its nest nearby,
And I’m drowning in this life I’m bringing.

Trying the best I could, hanging,
though a lot of times I’m failing.
Close my eyes to see pure white,
I’m just looking at the sky so white.

In the light years of living lives, they walked, hoped, and even believed in the so -called. the sacred law of intermediate priority; But whenever they traveled, the Golgotás's Gehenna's Chinese became a bit more and more disappointed, disappointed from the curses of swamps. Ten hangman-fingers shone in their weeds. Should the passage of times really only be accepted with insight, not to celebrate the counts as a holiday?!

As an irreparable sucker, they stagnate, even for a lifetime, even those who have been eternal children as a reward for playful curiosity and have not yet worshiped. Absolute adults thought as all -powerful power. He did and word, as if he is deprived of rights and weightless than the feather easily, but once he has a sifus lead weight, it falls under the waters of glazed stones.

Our time, even the smallest, is spinning, light laws, like a whirlwind back and forth; It is precisely useless to count the curvature of existence as a birthday candle. Because sooner or later, everyone will cheat on themselves if you can't take care of it anymore. Because nowadays there are so many fierce porchine, Komis-Bohaem Part-Faced Queen, who have been well known for a full-fledged manner because they have left themselves petty-kis style, and have been bribed by showbuisons.

Like a little kid, who is frightened of total silence and nights of the nights, and crying, and crying, because the little lamp of the nursery also paints horror, goblins, monsters in front of them - their doors, windows, gates are deliberately locked up, if they know,

~
May 2025
HP Poet: Todd Sommerville
Age: 60
Country: USA


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Todd. Please tell us about your background?

Todd Sommerville: "I was born and lived in Fenton, Mi until I was 8 years old then moved to Florida and on to N. Carolina at age 15. I've called N. Carolina home ever since. Worked most of my life in the furniture Industry. Literally from sweeping floors at 16 to programming CNC Machines and designing furniture by the end of my career, and every job in between. I have one son named George, 27, who is the pride of my life and a talented musician and song writer."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Todd Sommerville: "I have dabbled at writing both short stories and poetry since I was in grade school, but didn't start writing seriously until I was about 50 years old after the breakup of my marriage. Sadness, depression, and copious amounts of alcohol just seemed to bring out the poet in me. (Does it get anymore cliche?) LOL.

Anyway I was writing constantly during that time, even self-published a short poetry book (A Relationship in Verse) available on Amazon. (Shameless Plug), not really it was mostly drunken crap even though I was proud of it at the time.

Anyway to make a long story a little less long, I spent about a year getting myself together, quit drinking, and repaired the relationship with the girlfriend I have today. I started writing seriously again about a year ago. I think I started posting on HP about September of last year. And started my You Tube Channel in November, which I absolutely love doing."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Todd Sommerville: "What inspires me? Well, originally I would say Heartache and Romance, once again (Very Cliche) but I think looking at the world differently, and finding some inner peace has allowed me to be more creative in my poetry. I look more towards nature and solitude for inspiration as well as trying to interject some humor into my poetry as well."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Todd Sommerville: "Poetry is my outlet, it is my voice. As a shy quiet guy I always found it hard to express myself verbally. A problem I don't have when writing."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Todd Sommerville: "Honestly I'm not well versed in the classics.
I've been more or less self-educated, I dropped out of school at 16. But I do remember reading Robert Frost when I was a kid and I loved Poe's stories, Annabel Lee being my favorite. But to be real some of the poets right here on HP are some of the best I've ever read. Shout out to Rob Rutledge, Anais Vionet, Thomas W Case, Emma, Immortality, Abbott J Hardison, You, Traveler, and a couple dozen others. I hate leaving anybody out."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Todd Sommerville: "My other interests? Traveling, riding motorcycles, neither of which I do nearly enough. And of course my you tube channel which I'm determined to make successful.

(Last Shameless Plug) https://www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry."


Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Todd, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Todd Sommerville: "Thanks for Honoring me with this spotlight. I hope I wasn't to boring or long winded HP is my go to place to get feedback on my poetry and inspiration for future writes.
Thanks So Much.
Todd"




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Todd a little bit better. We certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #28 in June!

~

Rain drops' lullabies carve serenity
and slither through the canopies,
while the world is garbed in melancholia,
souls are drifted by nostalgia.
The droplets ballet on the soil,
as souls wander in turmoil,
drowning down the lane of memories,
chasing a mirage where photographs don't crease.

Begging to graze the weeping clouds,
the ocean is leashed to the facade of horizon.
Clad in blood at twilight, precursing moonlight,
the sky garbs the ocean in its hues.
Yet, the mutual admiration is baneful,
since the osculation is destined to be an illusion.
But beneath the galaxy, when somnolence seals the world,
the ocean desires escapism and reaches for its beloved,
however, betrayed by victory, it devours the mortals,
pondering if it is demanded by requited yet unattainable love.