It's What Isn't Said that Says the Most
WARNING: Detailed Child Abuse and Neglect
Something Amazing Happened Oher than perhaps once, I hadn’t written a “true” poem in ages. I consider it “true” when it’s written organically. The words flow freely and are not forced to fit. A reader knows a “true” poem when they read one. Jack is stoic. Both his happy and sad face look incredibly similar.…
I knelt, as if in prayer, head in hands, clinging onto a faint glimmer, a shimmer, in the retreating light ahead. I had been left along the wayside some time ago. It was unclear for how long. Time had stopped, it seemed. I was frozen and had lost my way. The directions somehow misread. Engulfed…