Trying to make sense of the world I am in.
With a list of problems, where do I even begin?
Homes for the homeless,
Aren't homes in the street.
A name is not a name when it's spoken to me.
I'm trying to find what life cannot provide.
I'm trying to make sense of what's left inside.
One's left to grieve, but grief's not for me.
Take what's given, but never for free.
Listen to the man that whispered inside,
"The scars on your body mark the parts that have died."
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Handle with Care
PoetryA compilation of poetry that describes love, loss and hardship.
