All that anger was once love— the love he carried within himself and never had the chance to give. Now, years later, he has found a purpose, found a way to live around the gnawing wound in his chest that still longs to be loved. Anger blooms like vines, but love grows like weeds. And he still hopes for the right person, not God, to tend the garden rooted deep within his soul. #judduplenticy #wakeupdeadman #writersoftiktok #poetry #fyp