A Poem
When you looked at meIt felt like that first day of JuneOh that June…When you kissed me,under that…
Hello.You are old now.Now I seeYou were nevera child.Not with me.
Do not close this book just yet I’ve got more grief to giveI’m not ready to leave this yetDo you have it…
A Small Pleasure
Who Would You Become Once You Stop Lying to Yourself?