It's been over a month since I posted, thought I would add a little ditty I wrote for my parents. Growing up I seldom saw them do anything but argue.
I have finished my "sell my soul to the devil book" I am considering adding my book "THE LAST CHANCE" to kindle. Bypassing publication all together. I have started another round of queries for my middle grade fantasy.
I am fighting myself, part of me wants to stop writing books that will never see the light of day. I am told all my books are great, too bad the right agent does not share the views of my handful of fans.
Small House
It’s a small house, we both know it.
There isn't much room for us to be.
Maybe that’s why you’re not home much.
Or could that lonely reason just be me?
I give you everything, but seldom
get anything in return.
What can I do?
Or is it that fire will never again burn?
Yes, it’s a small house, but it seems
to be filled up with tears.
It’s a small house, but there’s more than enough room for
us to be lonely through our years.
It appears our lives have shared a similar path, albeit, mine is somewhat shorter. Thus far.
ReplyDeleteSad poem.