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A poem about the toils of a neurodivergent mind that struggles to “just” their way to success.

If only there were a way to stop time and enjoy every hobby to the fullest.

A short little poem about feeling shy in a working group setting.

Working as a waitress can be exhausting for those who don't fit the mold.

If only I had the money to keep every cat. Unfortunately, my ten-year-old dreams will never be fulfilled.

As I complete my Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing Arts, I am reminded that I have not updated my devoted readers in a while. I appreciate everyone's patience as I work to refine my abilities and enter the creative workforce. Please see this poem about my passion for the craft, and thank you for reading.

The harsh truths of our nation, written to the beat of one of our beloved anthems.

Day in, day out, arms aching, back cramping, yet the work persists.

The sheep are so easily swayed by the butcher, and so rarely listen to reason.

A thousand paper cuts still leaves a sizeable wound.

A poem about my wife, whom I adore.

We must all be wary of the monster that threatens to overtake our sense of compassion.

The tale of a tree, loved by those who cannot speak.

Anyone with eyes can see the obvious. There is no place for cold drinks in this nation.

Oh, to balance writing and sightseeing.

Writing is my addiction and my dread. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Opposites are not always definite.

Dinner be most important to felines three.

We travel home, satisfied, tired, and yet sad to leave. In this post, read my final thoughts about the trip, including details I could not otherwise express.

We spend the day walking around Venice, the colorful island city with beautiful glass and masks.