My way
Face the coming abstacle with love and perservance.
Fly me to the moon
The Thanksgiving Eve. A peaceful night. A tired body. A normal essay.
The Final Illusion
Nick picked up his pen and began to write down his memories of that summer, memories of hope, loss, and the Dream. He wrote: 'Perhaps we all have his shadow in us, forever chasing those seemingly within reach green lights, those beautiful aspirations for the future...
Sun Set
The poetry was written at the begining of Fall. For some reason I write a lot at that time. So I pick two of them as a memory.
Whispers
An poetry from many years ago recounts a night of tossing and turning, unable to succumb to sleep, a time marked by inner turmoil and silent longing. It traverses through memories, melancholy, and muted emotions, ultimately culminating in a silent confession.
