Why do I enjoy this feeling?
Is that really a question?
Do you see the anguish that they have caused?
Do you see the strife?
The terror in their eyes?
The corruption that runs rampant?
Why do they cause war?
What do they fight for?
Is it their morals?
Aren’t morals nothing but words thrown away near death?
Why do I live in the dark?
Aren’t the lights so blinding?
Don’t they shed light on our inner truths?
No matter how gruesome or terrifying?
Do you not like the dark?
Doesn’t it rid us of pointless thoughts?
Do you not feel serene here?
Do you not find salvation here?
Aloneness. Is it not a wondrous thing?
I was born in Norwalk Hospital in Norwalk, Connecticut on April 3,1993. I started writing in 1st grade when my teacher gave us a writing assignment to see how well we wrote. Most people wrote nursery rhymes, but I wrote a short story of a crime that I had witnessed with my very eyes. My teacher had not seen such writing from a child of my age an ...
The woman in the red dress
How I admire thee
How could one walk with such grace
And such beauty?
As we dream
We are forced to believe
That anything we wish
Can be conceived.
A young bird leaves the nest,
Searching for his calling.
A calling that has elluded him
While he has resided in his birthplace.