My Poetry

Golden Girl

I am not your trophy... I am not here to be shown off, glorified, or acknowledged when your friends and co-workers come around only to be thrown in a box in your dark basement any other day. See, you probably don't see the difference between me and the golden inanimate object because you're not in… Continue reading Golden Girl

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My Poetry

Metamorphosis…

The gardener buckles up his overalls and pushes his hat down over his curly mess of hair, then heads out into his green and brown landscape. After months without rain, the little drops finally graced his land with its angelic beauty and nutrition. He walks past his vegetables and his fruits, and heads over to… Continue reading Metamorphosis…