Whether a child or an adult, many people given an ounce of power, and they take it too far!

This poem hit me when riding shotgun beside my mother. Good thing I had a pen and napkin on hand!

Blargggggg. plz comment.

Just a poem I wrote while being bored in study hall. Even though it isn’t that perfect, I enjoyed thinking and writing it down. How ironic, everytime I’m bored, things just come to me steadily. =]

Cyce of life and death.

A poem about the cyclical nature of obsession.

A compilation of many theories that are currently circulating around the internet.

In Edinburgh, my bike was stolen from the bottom of my flat’s stairwell. I never had the chance to say farewell…

Why can we never stay happy?

It was a rainy day and I sat at my window watching the rain pass me and got a little bored and wrote this poem