A year ago, I came with broken wings,
Silent screams trapped in fragile strings.
Writco, you found me in my storm,
A soul adrift, seeking warmth to transform.

Each verse I penned carried my pain,
The weight of sorrow, the chilling rain.
Yet in the ink, I found my voice,
Amid the chaos, a fragile choice.

The world outside may mock my scars,
But here, I shone beneath the stars.
You read my cries, you shared my grief,
Your words, like balm, brought quiet relief.

I’m still a puzzle, piece by piece,
Recovering slowly, searching for peace.
But this year, I learned I’m...