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An account of my childhood

A true account...sometimes you don't want the answers you get

A wall was his canvas, his hand the brush Was covered in a deep shade of red, His face lived on shadows and a profound flush. When he finally sta..

There’s one person beside him, his right side, That ear doesn’t hear so good, And this person knows it, The white jagged scar on hi..

Unfortunately a true and very accurate account of myself a few years back, and no, I was not drunk.

Another poem I did in my years of college

Semi-true accounts of me worrying over friends of the past...

Contest Submission

In Poetry 101 we were told to write and narrate a poem in the voice of inanimate object, this is my finished product.

A poem about my toy-stuffed animal rabbit