@lissah I was reading an old poem I wrote and I don't even think like I used to anymore. I wish I could go back in time.
Climbing 🪜 my father's shed🌳
Climbing my father's shed as a boy, to play, to dry in the sun after a run through the sprinklers, to pick red, ripe, wild cherries and sit and eat and watch the sky redden as the evening sun goes down.
To stand on the edge hands held crossed against your chest with eyes closed leaning slightly forward so that you can feel the hair raising experience of free falling without actually falling and then jumping down and learning how to absorb the impact of the fall with your feet so that it doesn't hurt when you land and running back and climbing up again paying special attention to where you first place your hands so they don't touch one of the sun-beaten brown weather`d nailheads that burn and will leave blisters on your skin.
To stand on tippy-toes and look over the neighbors fence at the one black and one spotted dog and you name the black one Savi and the spotted one Spot-ta-cus and them jumping around over each other barking excitedly everytime you peek over the fence and them always already staring back at you and you wanting to jump the fence and climb into their kennel to wrestle with them.
To lay down and fall asleep under the baking sun and dream about the girl from school and you and you were both driving somewhere in a car you don't recognize going through foreign scenery that is nowhere in your imagination and no-where, as far as you know, here on earth. ~Lostpoet
@Lostpoet i know but. .I've had a horrible life too. Nobody has a perfect life. Bad things happen to good people everyday. You just need to learn to let things go and look for the more positive things in life. My Mom used to tell me to never feel sorry for myself cuz their were other people who had more horrible lives.
