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It's Not About You #poemaday #poetryaddict #poem

The mountain never bowed to applause, Nor did the river pause for tears. The sky has carried a thousand storms Without remembering a single face. You are a traveler, not the road. A heartbeat, not the clock. The world was already speaking Long before it learned your name. Some goodbyes bloom from seasons, Not from mistakes. Some distances are drawn by time, Not by the hands that reach across them. Don't make yourself the author Of every unfinished sentence. Some pages are left blank Because silence belongs there. There is a strange mercy In not standing at the center Of every ending, Of every change. The sun does not rise to prove a point. The stars do not dim to send a message. Life simply unfolds, Wild, indifferent, beautiful. So carry your kindness, Leave your footprints lightly, And when the world turns without asking, Smile. It's not about you. That's how it is. © 2026 Gloria Penelope
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What a year it was #poem #sadpoetry

What a year I carried on my back,
Heavy as stone, slow as pain,
Days stretched longer than hope itself,
Nights whispered failure again and again.

Everything went wrong, one by one,
As if the world rehearsed my fall,
Setbacks lined the road like scars,
And mercy never came at all.

I felt like karma knew my name,
Calling me out for crimes unknown,
Punishing me without a trial,
Leaving me to stand alone.

What a year—if it was a year at all,
Or just a chapter soaked in grief,
Not destiny, not God’s desire,
Just life testing my belief.

I questioned the meaning behind the pain,
Wondered what lesson I failed to see,
Asked the sky in quiet moments,
“Why did this all come to me?”

But now I stand at a gentler door,
A new year breathing, clean and wide,
Carrying hope I almost lost,
Still bruised, yet not denied.

Maybe—just maybe—a new year will heal me,
Bring light where shadows used to stay,
Turn every loss into a seed,
And teach my heart how to rise again, not break, but stay.

I enter softer, wiser now,
Still dreaming, still alive,
Believing the best is yet to come—
And this new year will finally let me thrive.


© 2025 Gloria Penelope

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