Everywhere we turn,
there's traces of what was.
And in each holds a memory
that often gives us pause.
Sometimes they show us terror,
while others are filled with bliss.
Some remind us why we fight,
and others still, we miss.
Each symbol, sign, and pattern
engraved within our heads,
takes the needle swiftly
and with red fate string it threads.
And while this world's not perfect,
I hope we won't forget
about those who've gone before us
and the lessons they have left.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
