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  • Poetry > Ballad
    You think all soldiers hate the rain. I don’t, that much is true. It’s not the source of my great pain, My sorrow and my rue. The sun, the light it lays on me, That's what I really fear, And what it lights for me to see Is hideously clear. The red sun sets, even in war, It nest...
  • Poetry > Limerick
    Who was I to this blonde goddess? Beauty, brilliance, yet still modest. Awestruck by her loveliness, I dreamed of stealing my first kiss, Entranced by all of her finesse As her hips swung between the desks, Who could blame me for all this? Just look at her ruby lips, I am human, pardon me, ...

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