A small pagan fairytale that I composed one day.

A lady, long the dame of the party, stands in solitude, no longer among crowds.

Poetry/Short poem.

Some might consider it tragical, while others find it magical.

A lady is one who needs no ornaments.

The strongest person is the one who knows and shows how to cry and still says don’t worry, I am fine. It is the person who cried overnight but in the following day like nothing happened, glow and smile in face are the only things can be seen.

Being a man sucks.

Old lady’s truth or scam.

An inside look into the mind of a lady who feels she has no choice in her profession. As humans, we look on the outside, but if we only took the time to learn a person’s heart opportunities to reach out to those lost and hurting would be endless. Think before judging – it’s not our job.

According to history: chpt. three.