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Child
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Always & Forever Loved.A Poem by OnlymeShe sits and looks at her locket and the picture held within it.It's of her daughter who passed awaywhen she was just 13 days old.She thinks of everyt.. |
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The Fishing TripA Story by steveA woman has a strange experience. |
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You can tell summer is hereA Poem by OnlymeHer sunglasses are just about to fall of the end of her nose.The heavy rimmed white framed kind.She had a massive head full of curly hair on her head... |
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Flight 8675A Story by Caleb Bedford“Flight eight, six, seven, five has been moved from gate B1 to gate D5.” Charley, only seven years old, was trying to figure out if the v.. |
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Beginning of YouA Story by Shara AdamsWords cut like a knife, but they do not define who we are unless we allow it. |
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One in 15 MillionA Poem by VPApproximately 15 million adolescent girls (aged 15 to 19) worldwide have experienced forced sex (forced sexual intercourse or other sexual acts) at so.. |
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Building CastlesA Poem by TheJordBakerOn the gold sand we built ruins and made myths just for us. We saw them outlast the tides from our pillar up on the hills. We returned and built a.. |
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A Happy Childhood Cut ShortA Poem by Earl SchumackerThe price paid for being born |
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WHAT HE WANTS FOR CHRISTMASA Story by Peter RogersonIt's that time of year again... |
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Home FiresA Poem by MoominAbout young ones fleeing the nest |
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My AngelA Poem by Kim Jimenez"Rest well my child, There you could run wild" |
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Picturebook PrincessA Poem by Michael R. BurchPicturebook PrincessbyMichael R. Burchfor KeiraWe had a special visitor.Our world became suddenly brighter.She was such a charmer!Such a delighter!Wit.. |
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The DeskA Poem by Michael R. BurchThe DeskbyMichael R. Burchfor JeremyThere is a child I used to knowwho sat, perhaps, at this same deskwhere you sit now, and made a messof things some.. |
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Success, for JeremyA Poem by Michael R. BurchSuccessbyMichael R. Burchfor JeremyWe need our children to keep us humblebetween toast and marmalade;there is no time for a ticker-tape paradebefore b.. |
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ChildhoodA Poem by Ellie EmersonI knew the secret.I knew it like I knew thesmell of the earth after rain, thesoftness of grass underneath bare feet, and thesound of my mother's voice.. |
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