Expired poems

It's been a little while since I wrote what's scarred upon my heart

Good times, bad decisions, happy things, sad positions, name the place that I should start

It used to be that hurts and tears would stain my paper and guide my pen

Gods blessed me with other ways to sooth my heart since then

I have a roof above my head and
warmth that I can feel,

As I fall into the arms of one whose love is real

I guess I write when things are hard or when I feel alone

Looking back though, I'm embarrassed at the feelings I have shown

My poems may be scarcer now because my life's been going well

But pen and paper still rest close to help escape or to rebel