spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
I visited her every weekend for nearly six years. Her once-dark hair now silvered with age, but you could see she had been knock-out gorgeous in her youth. In my eyes, she was still quite beautiful. She had no family, so she claimed, and… Continue Reading “The Mush From The Hill”
Poetry by Charles Joseph
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
Writer and Artist
a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind
Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts
The Lies in the Skies Exposed
"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou
Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.
Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger
livingforthemoon
Butterwell's Blog
... from a silent space
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Raw Earth Ink 