I grew up in Sacramento, California. I would often write short poems to express and mostly distract myself from the chaos that surrounded me. During my adolescence I had few friends. After high school, I took time off to do a little soul searching and to 4 followers / 439 words
Heavy is the hand that holds the cleaver. Heavy is the hand owned by the weaver. Heavy is the hand, which dictates each sway. Heavy is the hand that leads the way.