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Trading Shoes for Meat

I met her when my wallet sighed,   A hollow echo deep inside.   My dreams were big, my funds were thin,   But love, they say, can still begin. She liked the stars, the finer meals,   I offered walks and discount deals.   While others booked a Zanzibar flight,   We shared a soda, split just right. She laughed at memes, not wine and cheese,   I prayed my rent came with some ease.   Yet every time her phone would ring,   It cost more than my everything. They said that love can conquer all,   But never mentioned credit calls.   A dinner date? A costly feat—   That left me trading shoes for meat. Yet in her eyes, I sometimes see,   A warmth that doesn’t charge a fee.   But still I wonder, half in jest,   If love is broke, is broke still blessed? So here I sit, with heart aglow,   And overdraft in red to show—   T...
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Healing’s Compounding Effect

Fifty-two weeks, the cycle turns,
Each scar a lesson, each ache that burns.
A year of growth, a time to mend,
The soul finds strength where shadows bend.

The fifty-third dawn, a choice appears,
To build on wisdom from the fading years.
Roll over your healing, let it expand,
A compounding force, like grains of sand.

Each tear that fell now waters roots,
Pain transforms to tender shoots.
The echo of hurt fades with grace,
As healing's light takes its place.

Decide anew, with courage vast,
To compound the lessons of the past.
For every year, the cycle is clear—
Healing grows stronger when we persevere.

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