My feelings are erratic; I find myself concerned and complacent with the unpredictable future. My cup remains empty; the dust of rejection is poisoning my sanity. A broken mirror cursed with shards. The tragedy of time cuts deeply; some wounds won’t heal.
Published by David W. Jones
David is a writer and blogger who enjoys creating literary expressions about everyday life. He is a published poet and currently doing reviews, creative writing, and storytelling. David's interests include narrating point-of-view scenarios, documenting non-fiction, and writing scripts for film and television.
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