old works
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I am fortunate enough as a writer that I started writing my stories with paper and pen. This is also unfortuate, because a lot of my works from my formative years in the early 2000’s (excuse me as I age myself) are all in a storage bin somewhere. Because of this, I still can’t find…
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The little boy soldiers rush at each other With armor of mistakes and the pain of being alone, Losing their only love, Having their hearts torn from their chests. They don’t use swords or shields, Sharp tongues and well thought out excuses their weapons. The older strikes first, The first blow with the most dangerous…