Esmeralda
While other baubles pray, for the redeeming grace of morning light, You always let slip, a few sparkles of delight, into the heart of night, Even on those mornings that seem engulfed by unseemly blight, You reassure those around, with
Girl in the Mirror
Puffing and panting towards the auto, I manage to get the front seat, And wipe from my forehead, the sweat that’s flowing for the heat, I look into the mirror scratching my sweaty itching beard, That was when all of
Falling Leaf
Nestling in the sun, tethered to the strongest stem, Looking at cousins in my shadow, I laugh at them, Basking in the glory of my sun, I miss the impending grey, I should have listened to those stories of the
Leaving Neverland
It never ceases to surprise, the emptiness that makes up the inevitable, It teases, taunts, it makes a mockery of everything that is believable, And it never goes away, morphing into a vacuum that feeds into itself, For, the soul
Corridors
Walking away from today’s corridors devoid of light, My chances of fully breaking free seem but slight, Finally a flicker, the sunrays begin to draw myriad shapes, While my mind is busy scripting one of its greatest escapes. Although my