Master crafted, Painted to perfection, The artist’s pride, the craftman’s delight Petite porcelain dolls With hearts of glass and all … More
You’re still in my words, And at the tip of my pen Flowing blue ink like Streams of tears For … More
Blank pages, poetically empty, glowed beneath her pen. Not another word, she thought. I’ll leave you blank, innocent and pure. … More
How shall I define you? You are my reflection and my contradiction. R. A. Douglas November 22, 2015.
Then there was quiet A peace. An ease in my soul A comfort I had forgotten the likeness of. A … More
You’re only half here, yet you expect me to be whole. Relieve me of my mind. Let me play a … More
The walls start caving in and there’s no way out, My world is too crowded, too small for us all … More