Poem

Forgiveness is a tender seed,  Planted deep where wounds still bleed,  In the soil of hearts once torn,  Where pride […]

There once was a number named Pi,  Whose digits went on and on, oh my!  It said, “I’m irrational, true,” 

In realms where numbers dance and play, Mathematics lights the way. Equations form, and patterns blend, In endless lines that

In the silence, in the storm,  Where hearts are tested, minds reform,  Fortitude stands firm and tall,  A guiding force

In the heat of anger’s blaze,  We speak in words that cut like rays,  Our tempers flare, our voices rise, 

A whisper in the quiet night,  A shadow just beyond the light,  It calls with promises untold,  A fleeting warmth,