By Shawn Marc B. Carreon
Our minds can hold so much,
But just how much can one hold in its crutch?
We slip, 
we fall, but we hold
ourselves just,
Picking up what’s left ignoring
what was.
Holding on to something non-existent,
Some people call me crazy,
Not knowing the difference between insanity,
Such ruins maintain my sanity.
I feel like I’m floating, slowly as I fall,
Praying for the daffodils to catch me,
But is there even anything down there?
Which leads me to hold on to nothing.**
