Memoir writer scans
back through an old volume as
history unfolds.
Memories expose
misspent youth searching for love
craving acceptance.
I find new meaning
looking back through life’s mirror
growing sharper scales.
I know who I am
other people don’t define
what my ideals are.
Cementing footprints
leaving my mark on the world
a poet lived here.
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The Dark Path Brightens
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
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How do you say goodbye recall the fragile faith in the eyes of a starfish before tossed ashore by the careless surf? Or crack the ...
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