My Poetry, Jokes That Aren't Funny
Roses Are Red Violets Are Blue If you don't like my poems Then you can go screw
Wednesday, October 01, 2025
A Poem For Lydia
Mourn the storm once it's passed
It was destructive and frightening
But also electric and alive and I've seen what beauty that kind of energy can create
I've laughed in spite of myself feeling the raw power rushing past my ears
It's
still
And quiet now
And so
I can allow myself
to appreciate what is lost
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