This poem was inspired from a day trip that I had taken to San Francisco, California.
Journal 7. As time passes by, the more I become settled into my own. The world isn’t something I own, but my life is mine. I’ll only claim what is brought onto me, which isn’t fair nor right. But its life. Look deep into my eyes, you’ll see my past played in clear sight withoutContinue reading “𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮”