Crossfire

They echo through our dreams clear as church bells on a crisp Sunday morning 'from that direction where everyone is looking... don't you see?' smoke continues to rise some 50 years later from a fire still burning of greed and hate the bitter taste remains the nightmare of truth keeps it veiled in shadows and silence hiding in the blinding light of paradise

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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