Some old poem |
He was a failed writer, And not because he wasnt good, But because his stories evolved faster then his pen could leak. She was something, Along the lines of a succeeding history major. She couldnt und...
Posted by JD on Wed, 24 Oct 2007 12:33:00 PST |
poem |
When the pen hits the paper, my mind explodes in to letters
These letters create syllables and transform in to words.
The use,
or misuse of grammar and punctuation create a map
This illustrat...
Posted by JD on Fri, 26 Jan 2007 12:22:00 PST |
dirt bag story |
The night wasn't young, but closer to late then early. We were still sitting at the bar, and I knew for a fact she was going to come home with me. Her hands were all over my body, and I wasn't too sur...
Posted by JD on Tue, 21 Nov 2006 02:02:00 PST |
