Waiting to Bloom

There is tender sadness

in the cerulean blue

of an early spring morning,

when hope lingers

in the cracks of

a broken heart,

yet melancholy presides;

there is gentle reprimand

waiting in the

shadowed recesses

of a shattered soul,

while the world outside

draws breath

to bloom,

yet minds are still

resolutely clouded

in gloom,

and we have to

school ourselves to let go

for life to truly resume.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/thxyyd/a_love_letter_to_the_younger_me/i1ajjqy/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/thuow6/if/i1aja7t/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3