The Boy, the Owl, and the Search for Purpose There was a young boy who was sad and distraught, He moped around his quiet, empty house, thinking his life was all for naught, He thought to himself, “Why...

The poem is fiction. It comes in two variations and it is written from Tecumseh's point of view. I imagined Tecumseh dying to an American soldier, a soldier who displayed a laughable irony. The irony is...

I sit on a chair, waiting I stare at the screen, dreaming I look around the room, thinking but I can't seem to find it The strokes of my fingers move swiftly The letters on the page appear immediately The...

What hidden beauty the world beholds, Pure and untouched. Far closer such splendor lies than most realize, And therefore they do not explore this world; Robots stuck in this urban universe, Blind. Machines...

Are you okay, young warrior? Does the sun's kiss cook you dry Will it leech all your energy If so, then you will die. You've crossed the mighty river Swam through the flood What gave you such strength? Prayer...

I've never been good with words You know, the ones that crawl up your throat From the oxygen and thought that surfaces in your lungs And circulates in your brain Reverberating from the chords of your...