Harvest remains on the vine,
Mocking time‘s embrace.
Humanity, I love you.
I love the way you burn like a Roman candle, brightly and explosively, filling the air with a loud “boom!” one moment, and leaving the air silent and still afterwards, knowing you have seen and you have disrupted and you have amazed and now it’s over and you’ll linger on only in memory, varying in degrees of vivacity. 355 more words
If, like me, you dream of being able to write as a full time job. Quit the nine to five and do what you love all day long. 1,100 more words