Unearthing and polishing my poetry, among other creative undertakings.
Lurking on the edge of all that's nice and good, There's a pit that catches those who don't do as they should. The path is always open to the wayward walking soul,
By Gretchen Sciortino4 years ago in Poets
The Locksmith was the kinder, the knower of many days. The Thief admired the Locksmith in all his clever ways. They both encountered locked doors-- all steel and blots and wood.
The first time I wrote an opinion paper I was in the sixth grade. The first time I failed a paper I was in the sixth grade.
