Here are some more of my poem fragments that I had scribbled in a notebook this year, and recently turned up again.
It’s small.
It’s old.
It’s crazy.
But it’s Mine.
My mom is sick
Must I see this
with all these eyes?
Can’t I love her
for who she is
and not listen to anyone
but her love and wisdom?
When someone is losing their mind,
You have but the Love
and life and light
of your love.
You don’t have reason. Just love.
