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...