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Step Into the Ring When I come to the blank page, it’s not always a Hemingway moment for me. Often, I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet, with clenched fists dangling at my side. A light layer of sweat gathers over my brow as I prepare to enter the ring with Muhammad Ali. My…
Why are you not speaking? Not saying what you’re thinking Never expressing from the heart Disregarding what is the truth? I see you walking ‘round Looking up and down Standing still in the commotion Swirling and speaking half-truths. In the lies, where I reside Beyond the fiction, behind Conviction just left of fact, I know you…