poetry
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“I’m Sorry, But…” by Shelly Moore Caron ©️ 2025 •• I’m sorry, but… Nobody on this planet gives a single shit about you. Until you really get this — you’re doomed. You’ll spend your whole adult life Steeping in why’s. The only person who can save you… is you. • You’re holding everyone to a
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Not all famines strike the belly. Some live beneath the ribcage, where marrow aches for what it’s never given.
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©️ 2025 Limitless Stimulus ••• “Soul Sediment” by Shelly Moore Caron • Wise words flow beneath the chaotic chatter of a mind in overdrive. They battle with my need for validation in order to survive. Imagine colorful layers of strata as they’ve settled over time: the bottom layer solid, the top in motion all the time. The wind blows and the sand moves,
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“You Are Not Falling” A poem by Shelly Moore Caron • You are not failing.You are falling — yes —but not into death.Into depth. Into the part of yourselfthat has no words left,only breath.Only ache.Only open hands. Let this grief be holy.Let the fatigue be sacred.You are not meant to rise every time. Sometimes, the
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“42” 🎂 by Shelly Moore Caron • February 9th brings many things. Forty-two years ago my mother birthed me. I came into this world; forfeiting my wings. On my 17th bday it was a warm 75 degrees. This year, however, I’m watching heavy snow fall on trees. I’m beyond grateful for all that I
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“Shell(y)” by Shelly Moore Caron • Everything I do is for my children.I keep a double last name so I will match them.I gave up everything I am to be beside them. I’ve shed all that was so I could raise them. I lost track of who I am because I owe them.I owed all that I
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I wrote this one this morning. I hope you enjoy it. Trigger warning: It’s a bit of a tearjerker.. I apologize… but I hope its message touches your heart as it did mine. Thanks for listening. ♥️ ©️ “Ava” a poem by S. Moore of Limitless Stimulus. Music: LifestreamMusician: Dream Machine All videos used free
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“For My Children” by Shelly Moore Caron • One day soon you’ll be grown with families of your own.Our house will be quiet; won’t feel much like a home.Not the same, anyway, as back in the day-when toys littered the floors from hours of play.I hope you remember the good times we had.I hope you
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A plea to the living planet we’ve wounded. This poem explores collective guilt, ecological grief, and the fragile hope that humanity can wake up before it’s too late. For anyone who has ever felt the Earth’s heartbeat beneath their feet – and heard it hurting. •• “Mother, Forgive Us.” by Shelly Moore Caron • Ungrateful
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