This is a newer poem focused on the fourth “once in a lifetime recession” that I’ve been through. When are we going to stand up and demand better wages during these times of record shareholder profits

This poem is the tale of identity crisis within 13 year old me. All while I kept up the facade of “liking” boys

A Taste of Rebellion. Just 11 years old and a begrudging disdain that only a pair of kitchen shears could fix.