Days they change to months that'll never stay Like dandelions in the wind the past just blows away Scattered All the colors of yesterday today have faded to grey I remember that place called home on the front porch I used to play There used to be such a magic to my life Like holidays… Continue reading Poem: I used to be a little boy.
Life is how it is, and there's no changing that. It comes, and it goes. Along with it, moments come, and moments pass. But these moments, they don't ever truly die--not so long as someone is there to remember them. Through this graveyard of memories is our only real way to access our past. And… Continue reading Nostalgia Pt. 2
Visit mine if you'd like--but depending upon which door you knock, I can't promise you'll leave.
It was like the air around gave in and the entire weight of the world fell upon her brittle self. She felt the tremors of earthquakes, the batter of bombs, and saw the spin of a twister. Shaking knees upon which she stood begged for relief, but got none.
I'm down to my skin and bone, and my Mommy, she can't put down the phone, and stop asking how I'm doing all alone.