POETRY

To him it’s wasn’t about the celebration, Nor the merry to satisfaction, To him it was a start of his identification, It was time to

There comes a time,  When you have to let go And reach into the unknown. A time to let go of the edge And jump

Our hearts are out anticipating “FRESH” “NEW” to be precise But we have to frame our minds to allow the “NEW” to come in. That

Almost knee deep now, my roots firmer and stronger The swamp thickening around me, its heat relieving my scared mind Smoke now filling the whole

a chilly morning it was, A cloudy dawn, aromas of Silence dominated the air, On a beach A pile of freshly dug moist soil, a

Took a slide down memory lane, And it was beautiful, I recalled The times I was raised, The days we were excited to run out

What are you doing out here? There is an entire bar full of women who know nothing about you, Come on! Go have fun! Look!

In that hour before dawn, When the night is darkest Death blows by… Spreading its ice cold fingers to collect the souls that are its

I write from a bruised heart, I write of the days of my hurt, A pen to pin the art, The art of my life

In the wee hours of night, in an old town that time forswore, An evil awakens and lurks in the shadows, Beware all you whose