Email Poem

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Poem



If I was never meant to shine like stars,
But walk through dark with dust stuck to my shoes,
Then please forgive me, God, for all my scars,
For finding hope in pain I didn’t choose.

My voice was small, too soft for most to hear,
A quiet sound that faded in the night.
But still I spoke, though no one stood too near,
And held my truth beneath a tired light.

My dreams were big, too heavy for my bones,
They woke me up and made my chest feel tight.
But still I wrote, in rooms where I felt alone,
And told my heart to keep on through the fight.

I shared my thoughts with walls and empty air,
With broken books and skies that never spoke.
I told my fears to corners of despair,
And wrote with hands that shook but never broke.

I didn’t ask for riches or for fame,
Just space to live, to feel, to speak, to try.
My voice was weak, but still it called my name,
And told the truth before it said goodbye.

Maybe I failed in ways I’ll never know,
Maybe I missed more chances than I caught.
But even in the dark, I made a glow,
A small, soft light that came from all I fought.

Now, as my heart grows quiet, slow, and still,
No more to chase, no finish line to run,
Let this be known: I loved with all my will,
And held to love the way some hold a gun.

I didn’t win, or change the world’s hard ways,
But I stayed kind, though nothing felt secure.
And if I broke, I broke through all my days,
Still reaching out, still trying to endure.

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