Poetry

Meant to Be

Running Searching Searching Unable to stop, moving from one thing to the next. When will we ever find rest? When there is nothing left? Will we ever see through the distorted images of society? Only when blinded could we ever truly be free to see. Who we are meant to be.

Poetry

Doubt

Doubt, it’s everywhere, isn’t it? We hear it from everything and everyone even if we do not realize it. Magazines with beautiful pictures of men and women smile and say no you will not be like us one day. The televisions scream and shout about, with its alternate reality of what we wish could be but only get… Read More Doubt