The writer and poet in all of us


Hello everyone. This is an older post that I feel we all can relate to.

We are all the writers.

Who defy being told what to say, how to think, or express ourselves.

We write not for the glory of recognition but for the sake to give words meaning.

To let others know what we feel or think.

Our hearts and our minds flow with every word.

For anyone of you outcast that has ever been told you are not a poet. We’re here too, anticipating to see what you create with your thoughts and with your pen.


Thank you for reading.

πŸ’ž Pam

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Inner child in us


Looking through the window

There is a small child

Sitting with his pillow

He has been there for a while

He is nervous about the room

And the place where he stands

His smile turns to gloom

When he sees my hands

Looking deeper through the pane

To see what is wrong

He’s not sure he is sane

He has been there way too long

As I peer into the glass

This child starts to fade

Leaving no mass

And me standing in the shade


Thank you for reading.

πŸ’ž Pam