I think I could, but don’t know how.
My worry is for you.
In spite of me, what’s mine I give.
It’s simply what I do.
I never ever cut the line,
Hold patience,’til my turn.
Despite my heart, I will concede,
Where other’s wants concern.
A saintly take, this way of mine?
Or, path of self-deprecation?
No concept is as foreign to me,
As the act of self-preservation.
Not just live and let live, but live and help live
Monthly Festival : Turn your book into a movie and get it seen by 1000s of people. Or garner FULL FEEDBACK from publishers on your novel and help your next draft. Or get a transcript video of your novel performed by professional actors.
Twisted tales of times true
We're all on a road to somewhere.