A beautiful tinkling music filled the air
and as I turned I jumped up from my chair.
The sad little song was over - so I thought
until the broom and dustpan showed me what
a cheerful little tune those shards could make
bumping up together when things break.
You know you are crazy when you write a poem about a broken bowl!
In case you didn't get my evite invitatio n (sometimes it gets recognized as spam) you are all invited on October 19th to "Fabulou...
Right before the day meets the night Rain that has not yet hit the earth That exhausted final push before birth The bridge between fo...
If depression were a flavor, it would taste like a glass of water. Colorless and tasteless. You could drink a bellyful and still be ...