Lost without a plan. Once a proud man with steady hands and a clear path, now I’m damn near homeless. Trying not to be hopeless. Trying not to let the weight of it all crush what little light I have left. Three little girls looking at me like I’m still the strongest man in the world. And some days, I pretend that I am. I juggle their joy with duct tape and desperation, patching together...
Beneath the moon’s watchful gaze, he sat, A quill carved from hope, a scrap of bark his canvas.The night cloaked him in shadows,Hiding his rebellion from the overseer’s lash.A man stolen from life,Ripped from shores kissed by familiar winds,He found solace in ink,Though it was mixed with sweat and tears. “My name was once mine,” he wrote,“But now they call me nothing,A shadow meant to toil and vanish.”Yet in the curves of his...
Re-Imagined as a Poem with Love The sun leans low, casting its weary light over the street,amber hues painting the world in a brief, golden mercy.Children dart between cars, their laughter breaking like wavesagainst the hard edges of the day.On a porch, a figure sits, hat tilted, eyes half-hidden,watching with the kind of knowing only time can teach. “Are you good?” the voice reaches out,not a question but a lifeline,a bridge between...
In the midst of her Blackness, there shined a light, soft yet undeniable, illuminating an essence that rivals life itself. She walked with a grace that held the weight of generations, her steps steady, carrying dreams that whispered through time. She was the epitome of love, not fleeting or frail, but the kind spoken straight from the mind of the Creator whole, sacred, and eternal. At the altar, she stood, a vision in white against her radiant...
By the flicker of firelight, she hums, low and mournful, a melody that cradles the night like her arms cradle her child. Her hands, cracked and bloodied from endless rows of cotton, still find softness in his cheek. "Sleep now," she whispers, though her heart knows no rest. Daylight is a cruel master, dragging her to fields where the sun is a weight as heavy as the overseer's gaze. Each step, each stoop, feels like a piece of her life given...
We are Ether, stars born from galaxies long forgotten, names lost to the winds of time, our legacies stolen, yet we drift, unseen, unbroken, through dimensions vast and uncharted. We moved with ease, whispers in the wind, flowing through worlds like memories too deep to hold. Boundless, bold, our love was the rhythm of the cosmos, a dance that stretched beyond the edge of time. We shaped creation, weaving patterns of past and present, our hands...