by J.R.
I am sitting under this big tree on a big ground. This ground surprisingly is from my school and I just happen to remember it clearly. Anyway, I am sitting there under the tree and I am all by myself. I am digging the soil with my nails and I keep doing it for a… Continue reading Grave project
The door creaksAnd it takes me to a different timeI remember a tapThat always leaksA big patch on the wallThat sometimes dripsA door that won't closeUntil pushed hard. A small plantAnd a few mushroomsFind their way on the old exposed wallThe paint is nearly goneBlack and greenish mold finally eats up the wall Door creaks… Continue reading Creaking Door
The words turn in to black splattered inkThe jar is now fullIt overflowsA sound of a famous songStarts playing in my mindA popcorn sellerI fiddle my pockets for some moneyA five rupee coinI buy the popcornMy feet hurtIn the skimpy chappals, I am wearing The news makes me nauseousIt adds to the miseryIt paints the… Continue reading Overflow
Thoughts of a Crooked Mind 