Poetry

Finding Strength After the Storm

I want to toss my hands in the air,
And give up.
What is the point anymore?
But I need to stay strong.
For there is sunshine after a storm.

MAD 9/23/24

Poetry

Strong- A Poem

I may appear quite feeble and meek,
Yet I’m strong in my own unique physique.
While others lift weights heavy as a boulder,
I master the art of lifting a smaller folder.

My muscles may seem like noodles, it’s true,
But I’m a champion in my own debut.
I’ll lift a spoon and call it a feat,
While others struggle to lift their own seat.

Pathetic, feeble, weak they might say,
But I embrace it in my own quirky way.
In a world where strength is so overstated,
I’ll stick to my ways, never outdated.

-M.A.D.