Poetry is a stutter’s thoughts
A last fight that was fought
Pain; much too deep to speak
A mother’s loss when she can not weep
An artists color of words
A bowl of porridge and some curds
A dream not made yet reality
But visions clear, as clear can be
An introvert’s way to say
What he thinks every single day
A poet is sometimes misunderstood
Seen clearly through his brotherhood.
Written by,
Terry Shepherd
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After two visits to my family doctor, one visit to the ER, I am finally on the mend. I still have to be very careful of what I eat; but I can eat. I feel alive again, and ready to be a part of the world.
Being ill is no fun. I am sure a lot of you understand this. I even lost a few pounds and hope I don’t gain that back.
My life is looking up in general. I am holding my head up more, and I feel smiles on my face.
Just wanted to give you an update.
Who I am 