My father always told me, Although I have no fears, never go in the attic, Which only boasted my intrigue. For amongst abandoned talents what could there be To make him so erratic? My father still won’t tell me. A ghost, I’d trap under a white sheet Disguise what might be traumatic To…
Creative Writing
Thank you for my present
At this very moment I’m sat on a bench, Breathing in the cold, eyes closed, warm smile. This is the throne I share with a thousand, So why not stay and write for a while. I remember in past years craving Christmas spirit And its spell of white snow to smother life’s flaws, That…