Melody walked the streets of London, her hood pulled up over her head to shield her from the British rain. She blended in with the crowd, her light m..
This is a song, not a poem. About a year or two ago I used to love to write songs. So, the next few things I post will be some old songs that I wrote...
I leaned back in my chair and drummed my freshly manicured fingers on the wooden surface of the table. I brushed a curl out of my face and made sure ..