Pain is the Flower | Short Poem No. 123

pain is the flower
Photo by Isham Krb on Unsplash

Pain is the flower that blooms from the crack in the concrete.
Pain is what enables us to feel. . .
To find beauty in life.

I haven’t flown the heights of joy
before diving the depths of hurt:
Overwhelmed and lost.

But pain won’t last forever.
Beauty will search for any crack it can find
and bloom something wonderful.

I Scribble My Last Letter

Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

©, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Scribble my Final Letter | Poetry Remix No. 60

scribble my final letter
Photo by Joanna Kosinska on Unsplash

Tonight, I scribble my final letter.
I’ve waited ’til now to say goodbye.
I guess I was always avoiding this.
But no, I couldn’t give a reason why.

Crushing thoughts cause my body to shiver.
Oh, how forever-expectations die.
Acquainted with the taste of sharp distraught.
Lifetimes pass in the gentle tears I cry.

Trinkets echo thoughts of you in my mind,
Thoughts that pierce me at a moment’s beckon.
But memories are all I have to choose
to hold onto when I cannot reckon.

But still, my heart cannot accept the truth
that what it has, it had, and had to lose.

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

© Jonathan Swift and WritingWithStrangers, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.