A freakin poem.

Me, Myself, and I tend to be a handful.

A poem for you.

You just never know…

Sleep interferes with everything!

George has had a rough day, so far. He hasn’t seen anything yet, and neither have you.

A poem for you, my love.

Praises and Thanks for those faceless publishers at Triond.

Inspired by the daily abuses people go out of their way to give.

George appeared the typical town drunk. From first glance, that is what all knew of him. That was all they knew.