Poems from lionthelostgirl
We could read under trees, I read to you, you read to me.
Literature, essays, poetry and prose.
Stuff from Shakespeare to Hemingway to...
He is so silent
He sits, he stares, he judges
He is a mystery
I sit there, still. Patient. You walk in, tall. Confident. And then I bury my face in this oversized sweater, 40 degrees weather outside,...
Video:
Asians can't drive, and Mexicans make trouble. You will get shot by a black man who will rob your home and steal your vehicle. All Mexican...
Video:
For the "I Am... Scholarship Slam."
We write, we hide,
we live our lives in coffee shops,
sippin' tea from little mugs,
stains on our...