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adaptableMaple1545
1 1,760 M Hopeful Heart
PathStep 16 Compassion hearts81 Forum posts10 Forum upvotes25 Current upvotes25 Age GroupAdult Last activeJanuary, 2026 Member sinceMay 16, 2024
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Life's hurdles
Poetry / by adaptableMaple1545
Last post
 October 3rd, 2025
...See more Sometimes life throws hurt at you, an experience many call worse than death. Understanding this pain feels almost impossible, like there's nothing left. Crushed, you search for healing in things that only destroy, Inviting darkness deeper with every passing hour, feasting on your love and joy. Death no longer terrifies; it feels almost freeing Every life ends, only sometimes, you’re still breathing.
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Uncertainty
Poetry / by adaptableMaple1545
Last post
 May 29th, 2025
...See more Ahead lies a river of uncertainty, its currents strength unknown. Will you cross it, or will the weight of its flow pull you under? There is no certainty, only the question of whether you will conquer it, surrender to it, make peace with it, or be swept away by it.
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Withered rose
Poetry / by adaptableMaple1545
Last post
 November 18th, 2024
...See more The leaves have fallen like the tears from your eyes,   The rose has withered like the love you once had inside.   The stem is broken like the person within you,   Planted in barren soil to show the fruit of your ways. With a callous heart, you pierce through my skin,   Undeniably, you represent the pain held within.  Yet, beneath the frost, where shadows softly creep,   Lies a promise of rebirth, though the wounds cut deep. For even in the bleakest nights, when hope seems to fail,   The seeds of healing stir beneath the frost and hail.   For with time, new shoots will break through the hardened ground,   And from the darkest moments, strength and grace could be found.
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FRAGMENTS OF A SHATTERED REALITY
Poetry / by adaptableMaple1545
Last post
 August 22nd, 2024
...See more If life were a person, I’d be their darkest foe, If self-loathing were a crime, In prison, I’d be a pro. If my reflection were a dream, I’d shatter the glass to wake, If emotions were a curse, I’d relish the chance to break. If joy were a competition, I’d always fall behind, If pessimism were a plague, I’d be its foremost sign. Her smile, a crafted mask, Her laughter hides the strain, Her scars, like hidden maps, Reveal a quiet pain. Her voice remains unspoken, Yet so much yearns to be said, Will these shadows ever vanish? Will life always feel this dread? Will beauty ever show its truth, As it’s meant to be displayed? Or will I stay a fractured soul In a world that seems decayed?
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