Prose
No Strings Attached
Our little wooden cottage was set up on the coast of the Summer Vacay, not very far from the sea. A walk with grandpa, enjoying
Our little wooden cottage was set up on the coast of the Summer Vacay, not very far from the sea. A walk with grandpa, enjoying
It was odd what had come over Jake’s parents. Usually they argued. Sometimes violently. But this morning it seemed they had found some sort
On lofty land The pure savage bird Builds its eyries With plenty of benign Dark from the human race The majestic Eagle, Flaps its mighty
Keeping my daily journal diary short these sweet bird sounds lost- reviews January through March. Joy a dig deep snow on top of my sorrows.
Chirping hummingbirds with wriggling flies, Dancing butterflies to carefree crows, blossoming florets and awaken shrubs, They wonder, they ponder dazed in a maze Where
Do not be fooled when I dance Born to survive I dance Born to resist I dance To feed on memories of conversations, moments lined
When the sun doesn’t shine And dreams are no longer mine When hopes run out And volcanoes no longer shout When all the oceans
I’ve been to far off places, Not one of them were as queer as you. You’re like a strategy dug so deep, I sense sadness
The sole meaning of life is to serve humanity. ― Leo Tolstoy We live here. In this city. A Godforsaken one. We live
We all ran the corridors together to make sure we were always ahead of the headmaster. If one did get caught, we all took the
In the cooling air of the lingering dusk, the flames from the fire-pit clawed higher The steps to the wood-rack, heavy and slow, retrieving
Who is sitting in the heavens and staring at me? Who is sitting in the golden palace of tomorrow? Who is smiling? Golden staff in
My heart is forever young A divine hymn to be sung I love everyone and always forgive As twice as I take, I always give
Life is a masquerade, People wear masks Everyday, every week, Every month, every year, Some wear the mask That presented their Deepest, darkest emotions Like
My heart is a pancake, Shared by the poor and homeless And there is a poetic spot, That belongs to the orphans Who are covered
The bridge of life is quite long, Ups and downs are something that come along, Every step forward, Is one step closer to win The
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Until you let go of what hurts you,
screaming won’t ease the pain.
The day stars new all is peaceful at sun up a fresh strong breath of tree’s The Christmas tree is filled with a thousand memories
The Walls We Build: “There is loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of
I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings but I’ll burst if you shake me. one pull at a loose thread and I come apart at