Reclaiming Joy

In the shadow of silence, a melody stirs,

A laugh long forgotten, but still, it recurs.

The sun kisses scars where the darkness once lay,

And whispers, “You’re worthy of light every day.”

The smallest of sparks ignites a new flame,

A dance in the rain, unburdened by shame.

Each step feels unsteady, yet stronger it grows,

A rhythm of healing that only you know.

The weight you once carried begins to take flight,

Unveiling a world painted golden and bright.

Joy isn’t loud; it’s a soft, steady beat,

A hand reaching out, a heart that repeats:

“The pain you have weathered won’t dim what you’re due,

For joy, fierce and quiet, belongs now to you.”

Porter Pfrenger is a 26 year old poet and writer from Arkansas. He lives with his two partners, their two kids, and an amount of animals on a small homestead. Outside of writing, he enjoys crocheting and singing Broadway musicals with his family.

Intruder

They slither in, unbidden, unrestrained,

Whispers sharp as glass, their echoes ingrained.

A shadowed chorus, looping, unkind,

Planting weeds in the garden of my mind.

They bloom in silence, their roots run deep,

Stealing solace, unsettling sleep.

A maze of whispers, no clear way out,

Each seed of doubt grows into a shout.

But in the stillness, I plant my own tree,

Roots of resilience, branches of me.

Against their storm, I learn to stand tall,

A voice of my own to quiet it all.

Porter Pfrenger is a 26 year old poet and writer from Arkansas. He lives with his two partners, their two kids, and an amount of animals on a small homestead. Outside of writing, he enjoys crocheting and singing Broadway musicals with his family.

Loneliness vs. solitude

Loneliness whispers, a hollowed-out tune,

A shadow that lingers beneath the moon.

But solitude hums like a river’s flow,

A quiet companion where wisdom grows.

Loneliness claws with an aching need,

Its hunger devours, it plants no seed.

But solitude blooms in the heart’s still space,

A garden of peace, a soft embrace.

Loneliness cries for a voice to hear,

A hollow echo, sharp and near.

Yet solitude listens to the soul's own song,

A melody steady, where you belong.

Loneliness traps like a cage unseen,

Its bars of silence cold and mean.

But solitude frees with its open air,

A sanctuary found when you dare to care.

Porter Pfrenger is a 26 year old poet and writer from Arkansas. He lives with his two partners, their two kids, and an amount of animals on a small homestead. Outside of writing, he enjoys crocheting and singing Broadway musicals with his family.