It's at times like these when the past seems to make no sense, like when you've lost this who you tried hard to please and the ones who cried even they thought you wouldn't care. Or like when the people you've hurt so much are the ones who stayed and show you the most love. It's strange to want to care when raised in a house full of nothing but hate, the past doesn't seem to make sense when I see my present because the change are wild and without pattern. I would like to say I love my present but there's a few shadows I hate, but there's something as light as a shooting star. I've lost so much, but at least I have my love.
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My poems and Thoughts
PoetryThis is a small collection of my poems written throughout my time and the thoughts that swirl in my mind.
