His torture was self inflicted and pains absorbed but his tongue, wicked. Advertisements
A fresh breakfast is tastier than any gourmet meal by any chef
What are the facts when people are frenze-feeding on the obtuse garbage?
She stared for hours, at what, I’ll never know; but her Beauty was endless.
Singing softly in your ear, the language of the flowers, for your soul.
The wind moves the tree branches making all the leaves dance and wave at us
Only one flower Blooms and permeates my room but it’s all I need. CRMB Chapbook It’s done! My first Chapbook is completed and leatherbound. Yay, but I’m both excited and anxious now. What is next? … I’ve written poetry in haiku form (for the most part) since 2014, but …