Background: I’ve written in my journal before writing here, so this note will not include context but start from where I left off. These are only my thoughts that occur which I would like to share. Nothing more:)

Lilies on my Grave, the first poem in my poetry notebook that I write my drafts. I am really proud of this poem.

What goes in must come out, and what goes up must come down..until what brings a door to shut might likely let the window fly open.

This poem is about that rare kind of connection where everything feels effortless and safe—where someone sees you fully, listens without judgment, and holds your hand without hesitation. It’s about the way they don’t hide their fears and don’t expect me to hide mine either. In this moment, under the glow of city lights, there’s no second-guessing, no walls—just a quiet certainty that this is exactly where we’re meant to be. It’s the feeling of being truly seen, not as someone to fix, but as someone to hold and believe in.

Background: I’ve written in my journal before writing here, so this note will not include context but start from where I left off. These are only my thoughts that occur which I would like to share. Nothing more:)

From experiencing the iner demons I face with DID since I was 5 years old and only recently came to terms with what was going on within my head. Mental health is not a joke and many people struggle with their inner dreams like myself. Enjoy the poem I wrote.

"Passing the post office, My eyes locked with their fence, The top covered in barbed wire. Just below that was a mattress, Pushed right up against the fence."

I picture Lady Liberty, she stands so tall and proud... But then that image fades away like a face in a large crowd... I picture her in pieces as a tear rolls down her face, as shards of shattered promises lay from place to place... We used to stand for freedom now we can barely stand at all... Once a mighty nation now just bracing for the fall... Our vaults once overflowing now we're in debt up passed our necks, and are Justice systems backwards and everything's a wreck... We fight in other countries but it makes no sense what we're fighting for... People's children dying daily marked off as casualties of war... And the government yells more orders and we listen, cuz that's all that we can do... This is supposed to be the land of freedom, how I wish that that was true... I'll be the first to say the words so many have left unspoken... I'm no longer proud to be a citizen of America The Broken...

This peom shows the struggles in one life and they feel like they cant open up and they missing people who were once present in their live.

Even in silence my heart was loud. It spoke through the tremble in my breath through the pause between words I never said. You weren’t just a memory you were the moment I froze the shadow in a room full of light the reason I feared my own voice. They didn’t believe me. So I learned to believe in myself. My stories stayed tucked in corners like unopened letters but my heart kept reading them out loud. Now when I speak I speak for the girl who couldn’t. I speak because my heart remembered when the world forgot.

But I know deep down, there's a fire in my soul A spark that won't dim, a light that will glow I'll rise from the ashes, stronger than before I'll sing my song of hope, forevermore

In the depths of my soul, I search for a love That was missing from the ones I was made of Raised by a mother who could never truly see The worth and the value that lived inside me

As October approaches, darkness envelops the empty streets, stirring feelings of existentialism. The chilled air and overcast skies signal a mournful farewell to summer’s warmth, highlighted by memories of joy and vibrancy. Embracing the fall colors, there lies the promise of rebirth with the arrival of spring.

My name is Elijah Johnson I am a young man from Mound Bayou, MS I grew up in a town enriched with black excellence in our history.

The poem is a wonderful explanation of eternal love between two individuals. The poem begins by establishing how their hearts beat as one, which is a sign of a deep connection that is not guided by all the chaos of life. The similarity of withstanding storms together quite adequately describes their commitment to one another, establishing that they are warm and safe with one another. The poem emphasizes the transitory nature of time and the cycle of life throughout, as though to warn them that time will change their world but not their love, which will endure forever. The life of the couple is unfolded in troubles and tribulations, laughter and dreams, and in the story that their love becomes part of the fabric of their lives is reaffirmed.

The poem delves into the inherent quality of true love, defining it as deep and unwavering in its ability to withstand the test of time. It starts by depicting the soothing hugs and consolation provided by the presence of someone one loves, underscoring the way true love brings peace and relieves the suffering of the outside world. The happiness of companionship is then depicted through the breaks of laughter and lucidity, while the pledge to meet the uncertainties of life head-on signifies the strength of the relationship. The poem describes the intense comprehension formed between two people, expressed through soft looks and silent commitments. True love, like the North Star, shines brightly in the blackness of the challenges, giving people the strength to hold fast to hope and seize opportunities together. The poem ends by stating that even in the most mundane moments, true love shines like the sun, making the mundane extraordinary.

In 2019, I went on vacation in Virginia. One of the cities I visited was Washington D.C., where I took the subway a few times. This poem recalls a brief interaction I had one time at the subway. A stranger's hair was so captivating to me that I had to compliment it. A few kind words go a long way.

As a bicultural individual with dual citizenship, it is easy to feel homesick for my mother's homeland. The last time I was able to visit Las Palmas was almost ten years ago. I miss it every day.

Have you ever looked at your reflection wondering if it’s you or just an image you made to believe was you?

A poetically developed thought about the definition of oblivion, the fragility of love, and the human experience of doubt.