The whole world itself is a scary place because it’s wild and twisted and broken. But I am supposed stay out of space,
By Tyler P. Mischley4 years ago in Poets
As bees seize pollen for fertile flowers Their honey feeds further generations Just as one relationship never sours Such mutual care is our foundation
Words take flight tonight My blight shown from a new light Unsightly for now My home has become Tilled soil sown reaping freedom
An Aura of Green “Look down there, past the brook. Do you see that strange aura of green?” His low whisper pairing with a slow, steady tug at Joseph's sleeve.
By Tyler P. Mischley4 years ago in Fiction
