Door Close for a Reason

I think there is something wrong with the way my heart understands kindness.
I get attached too easily.
Not because someone did something extraordinary, but because they were simply kind to me.
Someone asks if I have eaten, and I remember it for days.
Someone listens to me, and I start thinking that maybe they care.
Someone checks on me, and suddenly, I begin to look forward to their messages.
It is strange how the smallest things can mean so much to someone like me.
A simple “take care” becomes something I hold onto.
A short conversation becomes a memory.
A little attention becomes something I secretly hope will happen again.
And sometimes, I hate myself for it.
Maybe, because they being nice.
Maybe they treat everyone that way.
Maybe their kindness had no hidden meaning.
Maybe I was the only one who gave it a meaning it never had.
But I have always been like this.
I take ordinary moments and keep them somewhere deep inside me. I remember the way someone spoke to me, the little things they notice the times they made me feel seen.
Then, without realizing it, I become attached.
Not to who they promised to be, but to how they made me feel.
And that is where it hurts.
While I am quietly building a connection in my head, they might simply be living their life.
They never asked me to stay.
They never asked me to wait.
They never promised that their kindness meant something more.
Yet somehow, I still find myself hoping.
Maybe I am just too eager to find something genuine in people. Maybe I have been longing for connection for so long that even the smallest act of kindness feels like a sign that I have finally found someone who understands me.
I wish I could learn to accept kindness without attaching a story to it.
I wish I could stop turning “How are you?” into “You care about me.”
Sometimes, kindness is just kindness.
And sometimes, a person can make you feel special without wanting to be a part of your life.
Maybe that is the quiet curse of getting easily get attached, you create a home in places where you were only meant to visit.

A Poem For all Ages - MGS

I write a poem that makes the world see, a sacred space wherein hearts can be free. I write a poem that older folks feel, echoes of wisdom, truth that is real. I write a poem that the youngsters think, a spark of imagination, a vibrant ink. I write a poem that made the world known, in verses and stanzas, our stories are sown. I write a poem that makes the world blue, a reflection of sorrow, a true glance. I write a poem that makes the older folks cry, for memories cherished and moments gone by. I write a poem that makes youngsters mourn, for dreams that have faded and hopes that are torn. I write a poem to make the world healed, with love as the balm and compassion revealed. I write a poem to make the world smile, a gentle reminder to pause for a while. I write a poem to make the older hope, a bridge to the future, a way to cope. I write a poem to mak...

Plate Of Plenty

If you don't feel like eating, think of them! This photo has so much pain. 😒 Food is life, but brain fog for an ungrateful heart. If you don't like what's on your plate, don’t toss it aside, don’t seal its fate. Each morsel holds a story, a journey begun, A gift from the earth, a battle won. Imagine a morning when the table is bare, what will you do when hunger calls loud, No bread, no fruit, just an empty stare. The abundant meals and the warmth of a feast, All vanish in silence and hunger unleashed. When a pantry is empty, and your stomach aches. Don't dare to wish! So, before you discard what you do not desire, think of the hands that toiled, the hearts that inspire. Each bite is a blessing, a chance to reflect on those who have little, on lives we protect. So, savor the flavors, let gratitude flow, For the food on your table, let appreciation grow. For one day you may wake, a...

Gratitude for Provided Lunch

Why We Need to Stop Wasting Our School Lunch Recently, a teacher raised a frustrating concern: students are throwing away the school-provided lunches. It’s a tough conversation, but it is one we need to have. The lunch provided by the PSS (Public School System) is a privilege. Many communities and organizations do not have the resources to offer free daily meals, and we are fortunate to have this support. Being thankful for what we receive creates a better school environment and shows appreciation for the staff who work hard to feed us every day. If you don't want to eat your meal, please do not throw it in the trash. Give it to a classmate who wants it. Consistently discarding food creates negative feedback that could jeopardize the entire lunch program. If we want this program to survive, we need to adapt. That means being willing to eat fruits and vegetables, rather than just sticking to the usual foods we prefer. This program is an opportunity to build healthier eating habi...

The Author's Unspoken Words (MGS Writings)

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