Introduction I don't do queuing out of choice; in fact, I actively avoid it. Sometimes you are forced to, but if I can get out of it, I will.
By Mike Singleton đź’ś Mikeydred 6 months ago in Poets
Super and new, fans look like stadiums, cooool. Seats—crowded, towered... Inside, cheering, curvatiously and victoriously... seats full, challenged.
By K.A. Smith6 months ago in Poets
Isabelle's Ice Cream: Every Flavor You Dream Reading the sign, feeling quite smart, Little Johnny decided to give Ole’ Isabelle a start:
By Jessica McGlaughlin6 months ago in Poets
Your skirt cannot be a Millimeter above your knee. “Only draw attention to your face.” ***************************************
By LJ Pollard 6 months ago in Poets
My peace is gone, my calm once more stolen The chaos of my mind runs wild I am no longer young, and free Strapped down to my so called life, trapped behind caged bars
By J.W. Baird6 months ago in Poets
they all laughed themselves into a stupor. i was the subject and cause—not on purpose. fingers pointed, doubled over with aching bellies.
By Lamar Wiggins6 months ago in Poets
We were watching the Simpsons My parents and me All wedged into the couch in the house on Pert I didn’t get the jokes but I loved their laughter
By Sam Spinelli6 months ago in Poets
Running through a park, Climbing on logs, Splashing in a puddle, Then I fell into a bog! I was cruel to my feet, Because they were cruel to me,
By Carol Ann Townend6 months ago in Poets
What Came First the Chicken or the Egg What came first the chicken or egg a puzzle that makes my mind beg did feathers appear before the shell
By Marie381Uk 6 months ago in Poets
Don’t worry You’re not to blame For I have gone by many a name Three last names Just my first Just my last Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman
By Atomic Historian6 months ago in Poets
It was not forged in furnaces divine, Nor hammered on a celestial anvil's face, But gathered from the light of a late sign,
By Jacky Kapadia6 months ago in Poets
When I first looked above my bed there were 3 spiders at the ceiling’s edge, each the size of my palm. They didn’t bother me so much,
By Alison McBain6 months ago in Poets
