A song I wrote 12-16-04 when I was thirteen years old.

Is there harm done if we hide our pain. Does it later come to hurt us? Are we creating little people inside us that are hurt and lonely? Especially with the huge pains?

A love letter.

The truth.

A poem asking that age old question from the mind of a 1980’s teenager.

A poem for a gloomy morning – One small glimmer of hope from a lonesome poppy.

A lonely hamster gets his girl!

My love will never love me more than a peanut butter though my love stuns more than a star glitter.

Simple poetry.

Just something I thought of.