The Sing-Songer

She didn’t care for it,
This habit of mine,
To sing, to hum,
To whistle a tune.

She said it was rude,
To make noise without reason.
She said it was childish,
To be so carefree.

But I didn’t care.
I would sing if I wanted to.
Sometimes in a whisper,
Sometimes as loud as the storm.

Because it made me feel whole.
It reminded me of all my dreams.
Of a world where people were happy,
And music was the language of the soul.

Songs That Find A Home

Over the years,
I’ve written a lot of different things.
I’ve written short stories, poems, songs, and even a few articles. But there’s one thing that all of my writing has in common: it’s all about the words. I love the way that words can be used to express emotions, tell stories, and connect with people…