Though today wasn’t the best,
Perhaps tomorrow will be better.
A commonplace belief.
Founded upon a simple ray of hope,
Sometimes, that’s all we need.
I’ll dream about a peaceful tomorrow,
One without the strife of today,
Tomorrow’s a new day,
At least, that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
I’ll hope and pray,
That tomorrow’s better than today.

i will do anything
just to feel everything
that anybody can
that everybody can

i would do everything
just to feel anything
i would cut i would burn i would crash
i would be the tray for your ash

cuz now i cant
feeel your toouch
without it stinging
and i cant heear youur voice
with my ears ringing

i drop the knife to the floor
run straight to the door
and i scream
"i just want to feel like my life aint a dream"

(anything; everything) ©Sunny Semloh 2025

There’s no such thing as
‘being behind in life’.

Maybe yours took a different
course.
Life happens for a purpose,
and I firmly believe that.

Perhaps you got held back a year,
maybe you didn’t get the promotion you were hoping,
maybe you became a late mother.
Perhaps you fell in love late.

Whatever happened in life
was meant to be.

I don’t believe in destiny,
but when it comes down to it
life has a funny way of
showing you
exactly what is meant for you.

But my point is:

Don’t stress
because you feel left behind.

Humans have a fragile need to control the uncontrollable.
Such as the future.
But that is just ridiculous,
let your life flow how it’s supposed to.

My world didn’t end at 14,
and it surely won’t end at 18..
or 19…
all the way to 80
(might end later, but not today).

Sometimes
letting things go,
letting things happen,
is the healthiest option
for your wellbeing.

e build palaces on the beach
On the wet sand with tides lapping at our foundations
We build castles knowing that they will fall
But we do it anyway

They play a fleeting game that never lasts forever
They play a temporary game because it's fun
They play not to destroy but to build
So I too will to build

My destruction will not be by my own hand
But by the tide slowly pulling everything apart

I will build my sand castle to stand tall,
its spires catching the light of the setting sun.
I will build my castle to inspire awe,
to be envied and remembered.
Even when the tide takes it,
maybe its memory will remain—
etched in the sand, or in the hearts
of those who saw it rise.

So I will play,
to build, to create, to live.
Even knowing the tide will come,
I will play.

Sometimes I feel like an alien,
Flying in my little spaceship,
Searching for a place to call my home,
Somewhere to call my own.
I must be from another planet.
What’s normal here,
Isn’t normal to me,
It fills me with fear,
That abnormality,
Isn’t so strange anymore,
How horrid.

Spite and strife,
Common friends,
Together until the end.
Such cruelty,
The normality,
Of hate and evil glee,
At the sacrifice of someone’s purity.

I know humor is subjective,
But I think objectively,
Some things are just not funny,
And shouldn’t have jokes made to laugh at.
Is that so revolutionary?

Does it ever seem to you,
That people are becoming crueler?
Is it just me?
I hope I’m wrong.
Video after video,
Of people whining and complaining,
And screaming at the waiter,
Cause they didn’t get,
The correct,
Amount of the condiment they ordered.
Fights in the streets,
Over petty disagreements.
Road rage at an all-time high,
Why?
People make mistakes,
They do it all the time,
**** it up,
Grow up,
And move on with your life!

I wonder,
What planet I came from,
Cause it sure wasn’t here.
That could be,
The reason,
Why I feel no one gets me,
We are two different species….


Society just loves to complain,
About how things aren’t that great,
But instead of changing anything,
They’ll just complain.
Always putting someone down,
To push them up,
The cowards!
Always easier to hurt another,
When you can’t look in their eyes.
Type your hatred down,
Send it in an instant,
Can’t take it back,
Don’t feel regret now.

I question,
My origin,
Because I refuse to believe,
That I am,
A part,
Of whatever we try to be…

I’ll put a drop in the bucket,
In the hope that,
Kindness will overflow,
And overthrow,
The darkness,
One day…

Sometimes I feel like an alien,
Looking for a home,
Somewhere to call my own…

Late night poem in bed
For the late-night dreamers and criers.
I know
This will probably get lost,
Lost in translation or tangled up in your thoughts,
But I hope when you find it,
It also finds you back.

This is my virtual hug but also a reminder
To allow yourself to dream,
Allow your mind to wander.
That’s what keeps your spark lit;
And be your guide forever,

Through the ups and the downs,
Wherever life takes you
Don’t you ever forget, that Gods always with you.


Truly,
With every word written,
Big or small,
I hope it fuels your imagination
And ignites your soul.
I know it feel heavy
Carrying the weight of the world
It can get so lonely
But know you’re not alone

So dare to dream, gentle soul
Hold on to them real tight
Let the midnight mooon reaffirm your existence,
And lift you toward the light,
Even for a moment,
Or only just for the night,
Until you finally break free, and everything feels Alright. ✨

The strongest people are often the quietest,
Their shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of the world.
They listen when others crumble,
Piecing together broken hearts with steady hands.
Their words soothe,
Their presence steadies,
And their silence feels like a refuge.

But when their own walls begin to crack,
When the weight they carry grows too heavy,
Their voices falter.
Soft cries for help,
Eclipsed by the noise of lives they once held together.
Their pain fades into the background,
A whisper swallowed by the chaos of others.

They are seen as unshakable,
An unyielding constant in a storm.
But even the tallest trees sway,
Even the strongest pillars crack under strain.

Still, they stand,
Hoping someone will notice the way they lean,
Hoping someone will hear the faint echoes of their ache.
But most days,
Their own needs dissolve into the shadows,
Invisible in the light they give to others.

And in the stillness of their loneliness,
They wonder if anyone will ever listen
The way they have listened all along.

I met my younger self for coffee.
That morning.

Only I never liked the taste then.
Like I still don't like the taste today.

I sit across from a wide eyed girl.
Dressed like she was attending a funeral.
With big dreams to become.
Everything they never thought she could be.

Her smile filled with hope.
With a single question in her mind.
"Did we make it?"
She's too excited to stay still.

I sipped the tea I ordered.
While she is served hot coco.
That reminds her of better days.

She thinks she knows everything.
So it's hard to tell her she doesn't know enough.

Her smile I know hides.
A million secrets.
She puts on a good facade.

It would **** her if I told her.
All things they did.
The men she met.  

Yet if I told her we went to a theater in london.
With friends we never thought we'd find.
She'd scream out with glee.

But it's not my place.
To mess with time and space.
So I saved the good stuff as a secret.

All I whisper.
All I can say.
"We made it out alive."

She stares out of the window in disbelief.
Wanting to have heard much better news.
I take her hands in mine.
"Your better days are still to come.
We have so many more dreams than we did before."

She smiles through the disappointment.
As her phone begins to call.
We still keep our phones on silent.
Because we never liked the noise.

I long for things.

And longing, it’s contagious
It spreads to all those around you,
Until they, too,
Dream of houses larger,
Dream of cities bigger,
Long for lives vaster.
Happier.

And I’m willing to do anything
For that dream.