The cries of fallen heroes, echo through the air,
As loved ones mourn, and tears of grief do share.
The earth does weep, and heaven too, it seems,
For all the lives lost, in wars' destructive dreams.
The ashes of the past, they whisper secrets cold,
Of forgotten dreams, and stories yet untold.
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A Glaring Omission
I made peace with being cast out by others pretty early in life. As lonely as it may sound, I don’t recall many times during childhood when those actions affected me any longer than a moment or two. Being deemed the weird/gay/weird gay freak by everyone from neighborhood kids to blood relatives allowed me the privilege of sneaking away whenever I pleased to dive deeper into hobbies that molded the proud pop culture geek and writer I am today.
By Jonathan Apollo6 days ago in Psyche
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