They come like thieves in the quiet of night, Grief bombs exploding, trying to steal my light. A scent, a song, a fleeting word, And...

In the hush before the dawn breaks light, They gather, spirits fierce, ready for the 45-minute fight. With sweat on their brows and...

In the quiet of morning’s glow, A heavy heart, a weary flow. The coffee brews, but I still yawn, A foggy mind from dusk till dawn. The...