

Not my wordNot My Word Hot day, on a baseball diamond, Lying in a field fresh with fertilizer I hear something different. Different from anything I’ve ever heard before. The voice was strange, Not quite right. And out came a new word, A foreign word, a cool word. It rolls off my tongue, But not quite like his. He won’t say the “s” I wonder why. I try. “What ith all thith…” No, not for me. But I like the word! The new word. It’s sharp and clean. Yet something doesn’t feel quite right So when I say it, I keep it hidden.Not my word
Days pass


The boyWriting has always been my passion. Ever since I can remember I loved to write, I always kept a journal, rather than doodling in school I would write a little poem or lyric. Words were the way I would doodle, random fancy words all over my math homework. Any where really. I have just always loved to write. I grew up in a larger house. My father was actually a very successful writer. This allowed my mother to be a stay at home mom. She was always cooking or cleaning, doing regular mom kind of things. She never seemed to have any great aspirations and always seemed content. Her only goal in life seemed to be to make otherThe boy
my hero
creation
I miss you.
--
Jean Fan (roseonthegrey) | Conceptual Photography
Never be afraid to try something new.
Remember, amateurs built the ark.
And professionals built the Titanic.
Prints, Stock, Tutorials @ [link]
<3
Previous PageNext Page