When the world had stopped
I managed to get food through my roots
And start growing
My bud is golden yellow
Thick and soft petals
Are blooming through winter
As so many die
My serendipity
My growth among the lost
Clashes against the grey
Gift Guilt
Posted bysickybeatPosted inIdentity, LifeTags:critical thinking, Feel-good-writing, Inspiration, maintaining, Persist, Poetry
Published by sickybeat
I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty View more posts
SickyBeat 