For her to scribble bliss tinted tales. For her to scribble bliss tinted tales.

It still holds through the storm... It still holds through the storm...

Waiting to be collected by a child’s loving hands. Waiting to be collected by a child’s loving hands.

A  nostalgic poem of reminiscing in the autumn of life, bringing alive old memories. While the aging... A  nostalgic poem of reminiscing in the autumn of life, bringing alive old memor...

I want to shake out a fat broom. I want to shake out a fat broom.

I'm a big zero. I'm a big zero.