Poetry
My Living Dead Father
“Every time I see my father I see Hell as a human.” My body is a room. I hanged my father’s portrait On the
“Every time I see my father I see Hell as a human.” My body is a room. I hanged my father’s portrait On the
Communal or domestic violence, crimes against women, child abuse and sexual harassment are some of the major issues the world is facing as of today.
We don’t talk about our dark days. Of all earth’s lush night plant life, you choose to call the girl with war in her mouth
What exactly have I done so wrong? I have listened to his cries and please I have tried to understand all of his Hopes, dreams
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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