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Wisteria Lane

In the morning-she was subtle and sweet.

A pastel beauty-bright eyed and docile.


But at night-she came alive.

A regular scarlet dream.

Oh, She was wild.

But at least she was free.


By Samantha Avery


 I know you ask me

Where are you now

When in fact

You're asking me when I'm coming home

But I can't

I'm trying to make more 

From all that you gave up for me

Or maybe I'm running away from

Becoming too much like you.

By Amanda Caterina Leong


a flower opens

petal by petal


no petal is 

first or last


as important as the other

in making the bloom


By Donna Marie Beck

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