I wanted to re reblogging this because this WAS my life everyday. But no longer, sometimes I am amazed at all the things I missed out on , all the things I have yet to experience. One of the greatest being that I do matter and people do care about me. Even friends on WordPress! Thanks Secret Angel Ministry. Or to make a motion.

Like A Grain Of Sand. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 2,250 other followers. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.

Inspiration to lead you back to Soul. I know all about law of attraction, manifesting etc.

I will learn to love the skies that i am under. Processed with VSCO with p4 preset. What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up. Like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore. Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over. Like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags. Or does it explode? This mood board is my attempt to install the same feelings that Langston Hughes piece. Compared to the vivid pinks of the images depleting the sugary sweets.

Well maybe a little, but mostly, to be honest, this is all a little embarrassing. 8220;Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous? Actually, who are you not to be? Do I want attention for my work? .

Poetry, free verse, haiku, senryu, photography, books, art, philosophy , nature. Looking for harvest gold rainbows. Reflections in gurgling brooks, streams. Trees preparing to bare their soul. Cascading leaves russet, brown fold. To lay down a carpet of gold. A nip in the air warmness stole. Nature hibernates as I stroll. An old favourite of mine.

In order to love who you are, you cannot hate the experiences that shaped you. The Girl Who Filled Her Heart With Pickup Lines. The Girl Who Filled Her Heart With Pickup Lines. Sometimes You Got to Lose to Win Again. Sometimes You Got to Lose to Win Again. I will go where it takes m.

The Society Blues in Poetry. The nights here are still cold, the rain never stops,. The sun hides behind dark clouds, frowning at times,. The strings are plucked, the voice is still the same,. No one can hear it, the still in the air remains,. Something is missing, my soul has been taken away. The words we shared, those endless days between us,. The vacuum called time, infinite, as it grows every moment,. I Can Write No Lines.

Food recipes, legal discussions, general news, Real talk and other fun stuff. Food recipes, legal discussions, general news, Real talk and other fun stuff. I intended to write an epistle on how my 2016 went but after thanking God at church this evening I realized they are just too many to start going through one by one. I know you missed thi.

Short stories, poetry, haikus, and maybe a novel or three! December 27, 2016. 12 Word Christmas Sci-Fi poem. Three wise men Followed a star Off it went To galaxies far.