So I'm secretly a poet and due to recent inspiration from people such as Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, I've started writing a lot more. I think I'm going to start sharing them with people. So here goes:
This poem was written for a boy in my area who has been battling brain cancer since he was 12. He turns seventeen this week, and this is my poem to him.
There's a place in my memories where there is no pain or insincerity.
I used to go there when it got too loud or angry or shallow.
Everything is true and real there even if it doesn't exist anymore.
It flickers like an old black and white film, grainy but shattering with bright colors.
I once spent a whole week there.
I almost never came back.
And when I cam back, reality hit me hard in the face.
There was darkness, emptiness, cruel laughter, and unforgiving silence.
But worst of all there was regret and an unrelenting pull to the past.
In my memory, everyone was happy and the present took all of that away.
Hate raged at love over my broken soul, death threatened life, and sadness ridiculed joy.
It took a lot of tearful moonlights to take hope by the hand.
Pain still hurts and a heart's emptiness sinks with anchors of lonely lead.
Joy on wings that used to falter, flies higher than the color blue.
And with every stumble, a couple more new hands are there to catch this clutz.
Sometimes I still go to the place in my memory, for a short visit or two.
Like an old beloved children's book, it's familiar, weather-worn, and dog-eared.
But the colors have dimmed and the draw has weakened with age and wisdom.
Now, instead, when my thoughts brim uncontrollably,
I visit days that haven't happened yet.
With hope in hand and love in tow, every day's tomorrow sings sweeter then the last.
And though words are the only strength my hope can grasp to pass;
memories will always fade but tomorrow will shine brighter forever.
It's a little corny, but I hope to some it can ring true. Please enjoy and send some prayers or thoughts for Wesley Berry.