In fields of daisies and daffodils, we are nothing more than weeds. In summer’s grace, we are the rainy days. Our very existence is against the grain. We ponder at the skies, wondering what they have destined for us, praying it’s something greater, a meaning that transcends our pain. We sit by ourselves, isolated, watchingContinue reading “Untitled Poetry”
An update from a fellow work from home employee.
Weekly flash fictions