Longing for someone that is out of reach.

A poem about a woman waiting in the darkness to be found.

Reflecting on my grandfather.

A plea to father time.

American change for sale is nothing new.

This poem is about how we as a people tend to not let the past be just that the past.

Does tomorrow ever come? Can we escape the past?

A reflection of thoughts.

Poem.

Okay, so no one asked for my advice. Here it is, anyway, if only for myself.