Within these walls we’ll thrive, come alive. This sanctuary of safety will form our we. Where you’re weak, I’ll be strong,
Day transforms to night, light is concealed then revealed, all trading places. © LaRonda Moore
Their trash can is filled with morning blunders. Yet she continues with a pleasant sense of urgency. She’s no Betty
No one even knows I exist. *Written for all youth that struggle with depression and feelings of isolation.
Summer road trips had become my usual by age ten. We would pack up two weeks worth of everything and
What if all things were created equal? Would it be a better world, or a less interesting one?
In Honor of Black History Month Harlem Renaissance Poet: Georgia Douglas Johnson (1886-1966) Your world is as big as you
You stole my time, used my energy, and depleted all hope. You shited on joy, walked away from happy and left
“She’ll come back. I know it.” Inspired by Stellar SWS Challenge 2-4-17
Cascading slowly leaves depart from golden trees then blanket the ground. © LaRonda Moore