After the storm is when the flowers grow

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A collection of poems about trying to do better for myself and those I love. A collection that aims to be more positive. Pardon the lack of quality my parents took away my phone and I'm only allowed to be on it around them, so this is written with a movie playing full blast in the background, but poetry preserves.

For him
At points in my past there were times when I did not think I would wake up the next morning,
Maybe by my own hand or that of another,
But one does not believe in such only to move throughout life with ease.
When you survive what you think you couldn't, the hardship unfortunately does not end there.
Since those days I have made many poor decisions that ironically put me back into those places.
Back into worrying about if I'd wake up to someone's hands on me,
Back to wondering if I'd make it through until tomorrow.
But it's during these times that I must remind myself,
I made it through the hard part.
That little boy survived what he thought he couldn't, who I am to say I can't make it through something when I owe him a world of peace.
I owe him a life he is glad he made it through the storm for.

The little things
As I grow up the gravel wall towards the sun I am coming to appreciate the little things.
I am learning to love my favorite songs more than i ever had,
Music is something I am lucky to have such access to, and a beautiful thing that is.
I appreciate thrift shops in such a special way.
I love the silly posters, stuffed toys, and art supplies you couldn't quite find anywhere else.
Coffee my beloved,
My favorite pick me up and an excuse to go on a walk.
I'm starting to realize it's not always the big things that make life worthwhile but the moments in between as well.

The days after
The days after I came home from my attempted runaway were like nature after a storm.
The branches of my favorite trees had come to the ground,
As the trust others once had in me was diminished.
The ground became wet and muddy,
As every step I take the dirt that cakes my shoes reminds me of my time spent away.
The disarray of all of what once was flowing soundly is apparent from any angle.
Because I must admit with the steps I took out the back door was a disruption to the very nature of my life.

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