Old Things at the Thrift Store
The “Book of Benjamin” by Benjamin “Bigmouthben” Graham
Twenty-four years had passed since I walked off the campus of the University of Georgia. I had spent two and half years on this huge campus as a science major. The campus was beautiful and the massive old buildings that were spread over acres of land was more beautiful than I had ever seen before.... Continue Reading →
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The Splinter that Woke Me Up
As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. ... Continue Reading →
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The Splinter that Woke Me Up
As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. ... Continue Reading →
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My Plan Not My Purpose (Part 2)
One chair sits across an empty room on a plain discolored wall next to the door. A little television sits propped on the chair serving as entertainment that in a short period of time proved to be a distraction out of poverty. For the next four hours, cartoons would be the choice of education for... Continue Reading →
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Our Sons
Our sons are the old men that they will one day become. As I looked into his eyes, I could not help but wonder his past and future. I was so caught up in his story and what will become of him that I could not appreciate his presence. His wounds appeared deeper than any... Continue Reading →
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Our Sons
Creative writing about real issues of life.
Our sons are the old men that they will one day become.
As I looked into his eyes, I could not help but wonder his past and future. I was so caught up with his story and what will become of him that I could not appreciate his presence. His wounds appeared deeper than any human could possibly comprehend. Only a higher power could resurrect a life of near-death experiences and heartaches that ran through his eyes. His eyes appeared to have ponds filled with tears on the verge of overflowing. As I looked closer, I could see that one had spilled over and dried upon his skin.
Could his life had started as hard as it appeared to be at this time? Then I thought of our sons. Our sons that are trying their best to make themselves into men or at least appear as men to those of us who…
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Souls of Stone (My plan not my purpose part 6) – 1 min read
I am staring at him. He sits with an egotistical smirk, leaning back in his chair, puffing on his cigar, he asks in a stony sarcastic voice “Tell me something? Am I not your purpose? Is this life not your purpose?” Instantly my mind started rattling off all kinds of answers, but my mouth could not; would... Continue Reading →
