Blinded.

I have to rely on my other sense to know what is going on.

I have to feel my way around, using what I have been told is a

white cane

or a black dog.

I have to use my ears to know when it is okay for me to

cross the street

or get on the bus.

I have to feel my way through my house memorizing the number of steps it takes to get to the bathroom

or my bedroom.

I have to rely on everything but my sight..

In order to make sure that my life is lived as normal as it can be,

although I cannot see like the majority of others do.

Pain

I hate to say that I am comfortable with pain.

Physical, mental, and mostly emotional.

Every bit of pain feels like a small pinch, nothing major.

It started when you left, leaving me shattered and broken.

You were my best friend, an older brother to me.
But you left me like we were strangers.

How you treated me is how I let others treat me.

I thought what you did was acceptable.

Turns out.. Its not at all.

Now, I have to learn how to live life on my own.

Become my own person, instead of relying on everyone else around me.

Before I met you, I was my own person, but you ruined that for me.

I have found someone else though.

I bet you thought I would never move on, but look at me.

I am way better off without you.

Now I do not left my pain define who I am.
Yes, I will forever feel pain and remember what you did to me.

But, pain is normal and is something that everyone will experience

Thank you for teaching me a lesson.

Which is not to trust my heart with anyone easily.

I appreciate the pain because I learned much more from it than you thought I could have.

The First Day of Spring

Pretty flowers bloom,

The sun shining on my face,

Bees have made honey.

The bears awaken,

The birds are chirping loudly,

Trees filled with bright leaves.

I leave with no coat,

Maybe just a light sweater,

That will keep me warm.

Time for baseball games,

Sitting in the sun, tanning,

Going to the beach.

Wearing shorts and slides,

Blasting music in the car,

The first day of spring.

Poetry

Poetry is a gift.

A way to tell a story.

Poetry can take many forms.

Crush confession letters and entering competitions.

Poetry can bring out the truth in people.

Revealing bigger secrets that are usually held within.

Poetry is life style.

People making an earning and a career out of writing.

Poetry can represent so much.

Love, Pain, Loss, or just something that is done for fun.

Poetry is beautiful.

Poetry is a way for people to express their true feelings.

Poetry should be cherished much more than it is and should be looked at as its own form of art.