(2015)
Slamming the door as I storm out… Cold from the concrete penetrates… I pick up the only thing close, a… Angry words still burn in my mind… Self centered, childish words all…
Up the lane where the hedgerows gr… the flowers are small and white an… Where the birds nest in thickets the air is dry and hot but mellow My bicycle whisks me by
“Believe" said the Angel as she cradled the head of the man who slept Dreaming of his wife and marriage. “Believe” said the Angel
I was raised a Mexican Catholic, growing up neurotically guilty in the cobblestoned streets of Aqu… a mining city of Ore but a vibrant… and brick stoned colorful churches…
A man of modest means, he worked in a theater but was not a star or actor at first. No career, just a job and
‘Marrooned …the…sandman…was…easy… Th e Eas ter Bu nny wa s Ne X’d… Tune in, little dude, tune in, tin… to hear the argument, while they a…
There’s always a Church Street and a Starbucks Cafe and sometimes too, a Shopping center Rise where people greet and Main
You dare question my love for you.… I know I love you Yes I try to run Yes I try to hide Yes I try to find other things
I thought to send you flowers wine and cheese rose wine and dark chocolates but you would know they were from me.
A Tool Engineer died last night from complication of loosing his soulmate and wife. He was 46 Years old, soft-spoken and an obsessive liar according to her. He never looked the part of ...
Slow healing lasting impressions of your pitiful expression no longer do you have my empathy go ahead and keep on scheming
“I am a lute suspended”, Viola, s… To your tones, I resonate. Ohh, how we do celebrate the marriage of our two souls in issue from your f-holes?
I have lost the life I once knew Nothing I say or do seems to matt… My self’s worth is on a blank And my self-esteem is a runaway tr… Who Am I Now
I still wake up breathing your nam… and I can hear myself whispering t… driving me two minutes past crazy… the way my voice catches those cor… never fails to make me content
Your voice is rustling the falling… the marble angel praying over you has cold hands that give no recompense So many stones
