The streets are bare as
the cherry blossoms still bloom.
Life will carry on.


A walk in the woods
will still be enjoyable,
while six feet apart.


Slow down and observe
the beat of nature, for it
is good for the soul.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

I want to tell you
What’s in my head
This entire other world
The constant droning of voices
The screaming and thrashing within

But if I did
If I did...

You’d never look at me the same
I’d be broken to you
Damaged

I know that I am...
But I just...
I can’t let you see me like that