Worrying doesn’t do anybody any good.

My birthday is September 7th and to be completely honest I wish I had never been born, this is just me stating the facts. Something Birthday… I don’t want to hear the words “Happy Birthday” people mourn September 11th, I guess my mourning starts earlier.

A poem about an ancient battle.

It would be nice to be able to delete the bitterness in one’s life.

Seeing what the death of a child does to a Mother.

Poetry about being strong even when you have nothing left to be strong for.

A friend I have inspired this one, I love her to death but truthfully all she is, is poison.

Mourn me.

Nothing compares to the wrath of a woman scorned.

The cries of slavery, oh, how they exhort us to free them!