My face isn't carved in a mountain. I've never been struck by lightning.
I've never saved a crying baby from a burning house fire nor have I over come my misfortunes in life to acquire a name for myself. I consider myself a writer although all I've written is only pieces of torn limbs of my distraught existence. (a bunch of poems)
Nothing makes you happier than finding your dog unharmed and he's been missing for days. lost-dog & found
It was an extensive search on social media, flier's I made turned up nothing. I drove around looking for him still nothing. As I drive around looking for my dog. I give it consideration Gavin's mom disappeared five months ago I didn't look for her one time./relapsing.
Amber encourages me to write. She bought me a new book 2 write in she told me "make this your HAPPY book". Gavin's mom didn't like it when I would write. She said I was ignoring her. She said I couldn't write anything good about her. Maybe there is nothing good about her! HAPPY your gone! /three-strikes-you're-out-if-it-bleeds-it
I started writing in a new composition book in May. I titled the book "if it bleeds it leads". It includes autopsy of a poet, autopsy-of-poet. zombie apocalypse, we have an active shooter the list goes on and on.
My mom is hesitant to read what I write. She says it's because I never write anything happy.
My friends know I write. My friend Kurt will actually pick up my composition book and read it.
He notices when I add to a poem or change it. I know he's really reading because he notices.
Kurt would tell you I'm one of the toughest men he knows maybe that's why he doesn't question me for writing poetry. if he needs someone to have his back, he knows I will stand up and fight for him.
Kurt will help me if i need help. He watches me raise my kids by myself and when I'm riddled with stress from life's challenges Kurt knows what these poems are about. I think it impresses Kurt that I can take my life's struggles and translate them into a stupid poem. I hope writing is Gods purpose for me and someday life becomes not so difficult, then I can write encouraging poems. Who knows maybe my mom will read me from cover to cover. How could she not? It's on the front cover "My happy book"
You're on Page one Mom. "Hidden-from-reality" is a poem I wrote to my mom while I was incarcerated in the Michigan department of corrections, I don't know how I could have done it without your support mom.
We f💋.
I wrote this sitting in St Mary's parking lot it's called "early February maybe May" this is from a roof top.
Mr Sparky Wags isn't just a dog he's my good best friend!
There are good people.
Sue Kelly took care of my dog.
A stray that wandered in
She gave him a bath
And helped him find home
Mr. Sparky Wags isn't just a dog he's on the cover of my what colors Humanity book. Thank you sue for showing your Humanity.
We've roofed houses together for 18 years. We fish together camp together we've sat in the back of a police car together more than once. He's gone to jail I've gone to jail but we always make bail!
We've poured concrete together check out this video of him. I teased him all morning about having roast beef. He waited till the cement was down and he ate his roast beef then went over and put his foot stamps in the wet cement.
