there once was a flourishing garden,
a haven,
filled to the brim with writing mavens—
so very skilled at their craft.
but this place,
this safety raft,
went away
deserted
its dunes, scorched and barren—
a wasteland.
i stumbled upon this oasis i speak of,
in a time of great personal struggle
it became an outlet to speak my mind,
i was set free from my troubles
even if only for a little while…
backs turned
hearts with bruises—contusions
for so many… so dedicated…
mass confusion.
the flames of passionate pens
swiftly snuffed out
art inaccessible,
‘cause...