Laz K. > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

I twist and weave fibers Made of my own sinews,I zigzag stitches that goAround, and then, unseen, On the wrong side continue. Light does not pen..

It started out as a celebration of spring. It turned into...but, you be the judge.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

If God is love, does He love me as I do Ephemeral flowers, or Seasonal blooms? I am but a short-lived Splash of color, an Oddity, a..

Though we cough andBurn, with squinted eyesWe walk through fire,Press on, press on, And never tire. We pitched our tent andSet up camp on aMount..

“The tears of the world are a constant quantity.” ― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

So well-taught, so full of learning, yetWith judgment blurred and clouded, How can a man be told and shown theRight path and still resist and doub..

Had we but lives longer than the blink of an eye, would we spy the wheel we’re tied to, and from the clod, would we look to the sky? ..

Old man on a park bench, Hungry pigeons at his feet. Gnarled fingers fumble and Find a small bag of roasted, Pocket-warm seeds. How fast..

Your dress, so varied, regal, and rich, Once the wonder of the known world, A testament to grace, grandeur, and Nobility, is in shamefu..