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When Winter winds begin to whirl around
and whisper through my long and lonely days,
I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem
and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.
Reflection of I
When I look at you
I see parts of me I fight to accept
You remind me of that little girl in me
Although when I see you we don't exchange words, there's something about you
I write with the gentleness I want through others support,
I write with the reassurance I want when I feel I fall short.
Poetry can listen in ways people cannot,
It is a written way to organize a thought.
Life isn't all that bad.
We talk to each other; complaining of our difficulties, perhaps exaggerating a little to help us feel better.
It works, for the most part.
After all,
misery
When it seems I'm alone,
I'm not,
I have my mind,
And my soul,
My morals,
My life,
To look back on,
To hold tight,
To introspect with,
To think of solutions,
I'm not alone.
For what is a heart
if it is not brave?
What is it for
if not for feeling
the courage
to invite
every stranger
into Its home
To
