I hold no infants in my arms. Throw your stones. Empty hands can catch them and throw the bloody rocks right back. You still can't believe I'll take my chances with my own pursuit of happiness? Don't be surprised at the lake of spit in your grave.
I hold no infants in my arms. Throw your stones. Empty hands can catch them and throw the bloody rocks right back. You still can't believe I'll take my chances with my own pursuit of happiness? Don't be surprised at the lake of spit in your grave.
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
Poems, Writing Prompts, Interviews, Resources for Writers, Books, Poetry Reviews and more...
Saralyn Caine Poetry 