Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Thorn in his flesh Thorn in His side In Him, we will now abide Thorn in his flesh Thorn in His side Because of Him, many nights we cried
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
Those moments were captured and sentenced for many years, attempting every time to hold back the trapped, long-forgotten tears.
Let's step outside the comfort of the pew, and give to Him what is due. Sacrifice is a difficult kind of sweetness, but before we know it, we'll feel His completeness.
Where ya wanna go? Step, step, step. Are you ready? Let's go on up. Everybody's climbing. They're all doing it.
Father, Simplify her life in every possible way that you can, show her always, life's grand plan. Speak to her so that she knows it doesn't matter if clothes fit,
Success comes in many waves... Sometimes it comes by getting your G.E.D. Sometimes it comes by deciding to have a baby.
Never have I met you But I feel as if I have Never have I met you But we're connected Never have I met you But we're kindred spirits
It was our anniversary and we always wanted to camp on the beach. With each ocean wave, came another kiss. The nightly dew was already cuddling our tent and that was alright.
At first, a New World Order sure sounds nice. But, are they going to try and kill us? Depopulation Plan? Agenda 21?
Waiting for the next sign to form Waiting for the next star to be born Waiting for the next idea to strike Waiting for my turn at the mic
To many, poems are like little nuggets of gold, little mysteries that are exhibited and told. To many, poems are like the smell of refreshing flowers,
Felt like assault, Was all at fault. But then was told, That it was not, For answers sought. Questions having asked,
