Even as minutes turn to days
then years
sometimes the shadows cast
by the things that happen to us
stay dark, weigh heavy
seemingly impervious
to any glimmer of life’s light.
The funny thing is,
though
is that shadows have no substance
and though we perceive them
with our mind’s eye
they aren’t really there
and if we stop giving them a form
they don’t really have
then we go from fettered to free
and can bask in the warmth of life
at last.
-
Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2026 17:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: Kaz, Tristan Robert Lange

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Comments3
Nicely said Franz giving properties images empowers them.
Thank you!
You are most welcome Franz
Fränz, this offers a hopeful distinction between acknowledging what wounded us and continuing to give it command over us. Healing does not erase the past...but it can loosen its grip enough for warmth and possibility to return. Beautifully expressed, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you!
Mmm
But some things die while the shadow lies over them.
Interesting read. Makes me think, jeez I hate that! My head is too busy as is 🤪
Thank you! 😁
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