A very short poem on the life of something beautiful, plucked from its home.

Sip sip....

If Santa Was Satan...

The theory...

That one final journey...

Monsters and demons walk the earth...

The one thing that gets you through the day...

A little boy on a mission....

Annoying....

A little limerick to express my feelings for today....

We all know that feeling...

We all want to find our forever home...

Do they think I'm strange? Am I strange? A little deranged? I heard them whisper or was it the breeze? I'd like to run but have wobbly knees. What did I do? Did I do it wrong? Have I taken too long to...

'Butterflies', they say, unaware of the crushing weight of dreaded possibilities. Not as beautiful, not as care-free. Rather, a raging dragon, fuelled by dark intention.

Starved of nourishment, energy depleted, ailments take hold, agonies untreated. No will and no drive, we shiver, we shake, no strength and no stamina to stay awake.