Someone once told me. "Your writing is...
When they said this to me, my spirits did lift...

I stood there a second and smirked into my mirror,
Only a face such as my own could be so sincere...

Jenna was but fifteen when she opened her fathers...
You would to if you saw your father hanging from...

Writing a poem has never been so easy for me,
When you can do as I do and fill it with glee...

I bought you a single rose and placed it on your...
For you, no color would do, but the color red...

Expression, spite, malice.
Silver, cold, callused...