Poems from mackenzie_draper

Spittle flies in my face. I stare him down. He glares at me. "You don't know anything!" Shouts he, veins throbbing on his brow. "Not all...
When I was little, An itty bitty child in an itty bitty house, My mother told me: “Now don’t you hate. “Hate is a strong word, a bad word...