Walk in my shoes—if they fit you.
Their laces bind stories tighter than roots,
soles worn through miles of silence,
each step a question mark left unanswered
on pavements cracked by history's weight.

Give me my blue flowers, fragile as moonlight,
growing where nothing should.
They mean peace, a breath unbroken,
a stillness that holds storms beneath petals,
calm that holds chaos in its palm.
See how they bloom where words fail,
soft against the hard world, how they
grow in the shadows of things unsaid,
finding light in the dark soil of the soul.

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