You Don’t Know What You’ve Got…
Lord I feel like going home. I’ve searched and searched… looking for you Lord I’ve tried everything… to find you Made me feel like going home. I sang MY song but...
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the single guy waiting with his groceries at the register whilst a child screams & mother whispers/growls obscenities
after placing the divider stick between the groceries making their way on the conveyor towards the cashier & his own, he begins to unload his foodstuffs onto the belt
the recital
had her parents forced her into it like so many do, then she might still be a virtuoso, that is true, however, to see a kid make for themselves a hobby into a skill, just because they
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the project
upon finding him she thought that she’d stumbled onto some sort of greatness, of which she’d never encountered on her own, during the passage of time in her whole life---
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IP the world died etc...
cynical love poetry - not!
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Wicked Spikes childs story
short story
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Bedouin
breakfast among the dunes, shifting ridges, windy nudges
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Creaky House II
Greta held Sarah’s sneaker against the grinding wheel, then strained, griped and groaned her way to the foot pedal. Having done so, she pumped at the pedal with a furious determination.
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The father’s love
“Of cause I’ll love, you With the beating of a hand, But—with this love”. Be sure to understand. “Love is not a bye word, Written in the moving; sand.
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Car journey, Sat 2/2/12
The air is sharp and bitter, and icy branches glitter. The dome above pale blue and clear and cold, well-sugared views around the car unfold, gaunt trees reach up like scratchy brooms to sweep,
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