Prose

SCARS

I stand before a mirror naked… Like a tree the storms of life has beaten yet over and over again…. Gently I observe, the scars all over me… Some bold and physical Others faint and deep in psych… I look intently at each scar and I notice a story etched to every single one… Some …

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Jamal

Jamal The man lost in the boy world… Swayed, He is, by every attention seeking thing… Control, Nah, that’s not his area of strength… He does have some strength though… Stuffed in every cep like a barbecue turkey… He sure can lift ’em bells pretty good… At a first look you can tell he’s a …

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