Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
I pray that she would see the beauty all around, that she’d keep her head held high, not toward the ground. Surround her with powerful praise,
By Rowan Finley 2 years ago in Poets
How I need you more! Jesus, you, I do adore. You know what’s in store.
Human heart hardly flickers Saddening sight Through dark night Alone Again Burn me At both ends At least Until I’m
I am a bubble, floating and gloating, in the gracious, fastidious air, without a care! When I pop, I pop, there’s nothing to stop it.
They make me feel… Insecure, angry, inadequate, on edge, like they’re going to throw me under the bus any second, shameful, sad, pathetic and so many other things I should not write here.
War of the the rooms Loomed Chase of the night Sighting Man scooped her up Abrupt He raced away Gray Faces pierced the nightly dew
She laughs and crafts joy Acting and churning up jokes Attention, she grabs
Fingers snapped, a million chandeliers, flew to the floor, a black marble, stoic sea. Then, splashing, beautiful shards,
Ambivalence rests Under crisp white sheets last night She woke, he woke, they
On top, of mountain of sadness, there grows a tree. On tree, it’s hard to see, there rests a nest. In the nest,
Life beams me up now Take a nice wonderful bow Caring and sharing
I can hide from some, but a baby won’t stay small for long… I confess to a long flowing dress, inside, I feel like a mess.
