His name was Johnny. His close friends and family liked to call him, little johnny.

This story is about little johnny, with his report card nearing, he wanted to throw one last Hail Mary.

He tried his best and paid attention. He did all but one math question.

On the night before the big day, he knew that this was it. He fell asleep from fatigue, before everything he learned could even hit...

Next morning, little johnny feeling proud of his effort, went off to school feeling great from his rest.

Unfortunately for little johnny, the results show...that in the end he still failed his math test.

This is a story of little johnny, and his mediocre report card.

All the poems
About the love
About the sorrow
About the broke and hollow
Were all about one
An "I love you" over again
I knew one day it would end
But kept trying to convince myself that it would last.

It's been awhile I know
Been so busy
Work and life
But not to worry
I am back
now let my poetry
begin again
Yes I missed you
Did you happen to miss me to
Busy now slowed
So here I am back with you !!
€ Jennifer Dlg 2019/9

Once I was a teen,
That's when Mum got mean,
Dragged us off on long drives,
Her whinging did give me hives,
Maybe she could not hack us growing,
Autonomy we wanted knowing,
We tried not to be like our mother,
Turned each into totally another,
Nag, nag, nag and moan,
Not again,  I'd  sit at home,
With music and a fur pal,
A book, a pen, a suburban gal......
So, in half a century,
Not much changed for me,
I sit and scribble, solo,
But never alone, my muse, lo!

I wrote and rejected my own words,
I marked them basic, unoriginal.
I erased lines I never replaced.
I stopped making new worlds.
I loathed that I was only typical,
I hoped it would only be a phase
But I paused.
The pause turned into a halt.
It turned into a break, turned into never.
Then I wrote back all that I lost,
Stopped stopping and breaking and believing the false.
I want to continue writing letters.
So I will mix and match and reach my goal to have never been better.

it's all the matter of:
waiting for the calm
despite having the storm
just pass by;
having a mind crippled with
"i don't even
want to try."

my hands remain shaky,
my body remains tired.
my soul remains weary,

but so far,
it's alright.

Darkness,
It flows through my body like blood,
It burns my veins feeling like acid.

When I look in the mirror,
I see a shadow,
A shadow of what I've become.

the tower of when

1,000 years ago,is nothing in the
tower of when. standing on
a rock , 2 million years past
the future is present
and the present is last

i saw a child who died last night
and lived a hundred years
the peasant begging on the street is me
i'm rich i give you free
call upon the minutes and die again
the tower of when is why