Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Success comes in many waves... Sometimes it comes by getting your G.E.D. Sometimes it comes by deciding to have a baby.
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
Never have I met you But I feel as if I have Never have I met you But we're connected Never have I met you But we're kindred spirits
It was our anniversary and we always wanted to camp on the beach. With each ocean wave, came another kiss. The nightly dew was already cuddling our tent and that was alright.
At first, a New World Order sure sounds nice. But, are they going to try and kill us? Depopulation Plan? Agenda 21?
Waiting for the next sign to form Waiting for the next star to be born Waiting for the next idea to strike Waiting for my turn at the mic
To many, poems are like little nuggets of gold, little mysteries that are exhibited and told. To many, poems are like the smell of refreshing flowers,
Felt like assault, Was all at fault. But then was told, That it was not, For answers sought. Questions having asked,
Dear 16, I hear you loud and clear Even though I am older and not your peer Your age is significant And so are you
You've been holding secrets, bound to the jewels on your necklace, guilt, clearly visible on your face. I just want us to be able to communicate,
I don't trust myself to be alone, just when I think I've reached a milestone, I fail again... in frustration, my soul begins to moan.
I will agree that the hearts of man have grown cold, and the earth seems like it is expired and old. Violence is the vicious lullaby of the lands,
Budding youth are more than distracted, they are immersed by the media, coerced The world looks at them like greedy vulture
