By: Brittany Gonzales
My anxiety is like a squirrel!
I bounce, bounce, bounce, walk, stop—-oh look a nice acorn!
Wait—-
There’s a beautiful yellow sunflower dropping seeds,
I should go there—-
What was I doing again?
Lost
By: Brittany Gonzales
What am I running toward?
My hands and pockets are empty,
Where did my change go?
No nickels, dimes, or quarters do I have.
I feel lost in the mist-
Searching for what?
Who knows-Empty-
Dark-crying-seeking-
Where am I?
The mirror holds my face
But the darkness casts its’ shadow across it,
Now all I see is a black storm in the mirror.
Vincent Van Gogh’s
“The Bedroom” a Poem
By: Brittany Gonzales
Isolated from the world,
Van Gogh sprinkles his life with beauty,
His bedroom a token to his soul
Such simplicity in one area
Yet, such splendor adorns his wall
Blues, yellows, greens and brown splash across like the quiet soul he was,
A peaceful lullaby in the wind,
I cry as his art has touched my soul forevermore.
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