Writing is an extension of ones self, a hope of bringing the reader in, making them feel something, get them thinking, curious, interested in reading more. Any writer has the wish to make an impact on their readers, to bring meaning into an otherwise meaningless life. I write, with the hope of becoming more. I enjoy what I do, writing is a release for me. It teaches one to grow, and it helps one speak out to a world where one might not always feel comfortable speaking. I don't follow any certain style, I find it limiting. Life is full of enough limits, writing should be from the heart, where one does not have to follow guidelines, proper etiquette, or another's idea of what's right or wrong. I write for personal enjoyment as well as the hope to one day make a significant difference in someones life. Obviously I do not mean family or friends here, but that my writing may reach out, and touch someone just enough to change the course of events in their life, to bring about a positive change. Anyway enough said, I hope you enjoy what few poems I have decided to post on here, have a blessed day.
~*Lori*~
~Never make someone your priority, while they make you, their option.~
~*Lori*~
~Never make someone your priority, while they make you, their option.~
- Last seen on Jun 16 4:12 AM. Member since July 26, 2004.
- I'm a malachite opening poet for 438 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself..
- I am a 33 year old woman from Michigan (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a working, single, mother of one.
- I have 438 comments
My Poetry
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His truth, so distorted even he can't see through it.
My Stories
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Show all at storywrite
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A yellow school bus passes by, followed by a white truck, and a red van, she pays no notice standing there eyes fixed on the leaf dancing950 lines, 18 comments, April 22, 2005. In 600-2000 words, Abuse, Fiction, Inspirational, Life, Personal, Tragedy, Unfinished
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Mom, mom, MOM she hears in her ear sometime in the night, it's her young son waking her so he can join her in bed, he crawls in next to her425 lines, 2 comments, November 5, 2004. In <600 words, Other
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Scenes from a time long ago play as shadows on a wall through her mind.
She sits remembering days of old, pondering on the mysteries of li
Visitor Book
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zero7 : :) on December 28, 2007Happy Birthday Sweetheart! *Huge Hug*
