Poetry: DARK, FAMILY, FEAR, HURT, PAINFUL, RHYME, and SAD. The Man by Edward Matyja Pills. He took a plethora of pills. A provided, pompous, plethora of pills being popped every day without stop. Properly placing the provided, pompous, plethora of petite, purple pills into his palm, and then popping them down his throat. He does it… Continue reading The Man, Poetry by Edward Matyja
Category: poem
WHO AM I, Poetry by Aneesh Kotru
I think to myself, who am I,
So many possibilities, but to know I must try,
To descend from this throne of pride, I see myself sitting on so high,
And explore the very fabric of the words ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘why’.
WILDsound Festival 