In depths of silence, words lie trapped, Like stones of thought, my mind ensnapped. To speak, my voice finds no release, Held captive by the fear of cease. In this stifling air, I cannot thrive, My spirit yearning to survive.
Like it dislike it … it is what it is If written unsmitten all fate in the wind Rising or falling the mixture the same True joy in the baking —whose icing remains
On the very first day, I wore that white coat for its true purpose my father's cheeks were wet with tears. They fell despite his resistance for that year the rain had been too much and the dam had been worn down by dreams and the white coat was a beautiful rainbow.