Going Home

Going Home

My mother died nine months ago my Dada thinks she’s asleep upstairs And wonders where his children are the ones who moved out years ago. He knows he lives here in this house, but wonders where his home is. On the hill I know, but when can I move in he asks? I know...
Some of my poems

Some of my poems

Sonnet to Ash Blonde Love Seriously, she had unbelievable Amounts of ash blonde Hair on her head. Balanced like A meringue but that sounds Rude and ugly but she wasn’t Either. She was beautiful her Ash blonde hair crown on angel Face with lips bright red and Twinkling...