The Triolet is a French poetic form

The fight with Mom hadn't lasted long. We were both screaming, trying to be louder than each other.

...the wild life, forests, sea beaches, indigenous tribes, forts, Rajas and maharajas and the freedom struggle...

I was born without God knowing, so I have no soul Raised in this strange world that gives me no goal I write to you my Valentine, who knows me not That I too, know you never from this spot

As a mentally ill citizen of Jackson County, I'd like to make some observations on the local mental health system.

---original message---

Oh, those rubber pants !