• Poetry,  Writing

    Angry Child

    This child is so angry. Nobody understands him so he chooses to live in his own little world. Nobody sees the gifts he has, nor do they care. His world grows larger; a shell to protect him. I love you, little boy, for I am just the same.

  • Poetry,  Writing

    My Uncle Grant

    My Uncle Grant; not only family, but my also best friend. He passed away much too soon, leaving me behind. I will never forget the fun times we shared; the rides in the car, the trips to Toys-R-Us, and our life long friendship. I wish you were here because I miss you already.

  • Poetry,  Writing

    Look Back On My Life

    My life lives forever in my words. Reincarnated on every page, relievable any number of times. Such a gift it is to look back on my life… relive those forgotten childhood days. My life is eternal captured in the pages of my journal. All my life’s’ pages held together with a perfect binding called time.

  • Other Stuff,  Poetry

    Life Is But A Journey

    Life is but a journey with a fork in every road. Its high roads and its low roads. We as travelers know only where we are and where we’ve been. Seldom, if ever do we know where we’re going. But we all reach our destination some day. Making our lives and this endless journey complete.

  • Poetry,  Writing

    Dark Nights And Fast Cars

    Why walk when you can drive? Drive. The music blasting only makes me crazy. It’s the way you like to drive. Drive. You show me another side of life. It’s unlike the slow-paced life of the South. That is not how you drive. Drive. You whisk us away; down crowded streets on a Saturday night. Drive. Right through changing lights, and stop signs; nothing will slow you down. Drive. Pick up some hair dye, then leave me at my block. Finally, some place familiar to me; another unusual experience for me to write down.