Poetry Marauding My Dreams Never stopped being in love with what we were. A memory. a fantasy, So long ago. Years and places and people ago. Roads diverged after Read More » No Comments
Poetry The Color of My Skin. You murdered me because of the color of my skin. Not because of my culture. Not because of my religion. Not over territory rights or Read More » No Comments
Poetry This. The setting sun as a backdrop. The brilliant red, pink, orange painted across the sky. Lying tip the hill In the cool grass. Warm air, Read More » No Comments