Poem written to a picture of a breakfast table with a plate of ‘fried bacon and eggs, tomatoes, with crisp half burnt toast, and a glass of pure red grape juice…
Continue ReadingIt does not take long to decipher something.
Continue ReadingYou cannot choose your family.
Continue ReadingAbout the book “on the sidewalk bleeding”.
Continue ReadingThe healing effact of writing.
Continue ReadingNot today’s kids. It was a recess game and it required a special tool.
Continue ReadingThe title seems awfully blunt, but this is a poem of love and recovery for the broken-spirited. If anyone you know, or you yourself, are seeking help to quit self-injury, this poem may have personal meaning to you. To anyone not directly involved in such a situation, this poem will provide insight into a barely known, but serious, topic. Hopefully it will also provide inspiration.
Continue ReadingLove, fun, lust, or bust.
Continue ReadingThis is a true story of a thief? or not a thief? Judge for yourself after reading the story.
Continue ReadingI am Twilight Knight.
Continue Reading
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