http://slow.writerscafe.org/DRi The original writings of author DriDri en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776033783 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I wonder if God ever gets tired of being everyone's therapist?When he's listening to people's problems and they're skeptical ifhe can take care of it.When you pray for something but you don't get anything back, so you take matters into your own hands changing reactions to facts.While God is saying, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1146703/ If... you ever got to know me you would know that I like to live on the edge on the run pack up my bags and go whereever, whenever I'm called If you ever got to know me you could tell that the cookies and cream concoction of my skin will relay little about who.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1141830/ I’d pour my heart out to you it’s not that i’m scared because fear is a mindset and my mind is set on you  but you are farther away than my thoughts become when  i’m focused on other things to distract myself from . . .you.   .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1136626/ If hands were meant for holding, why do we, curl anger creased fingers into fists and fight wars we have no chance in winning. Why do we use our minds to shut people out, instead of venuring to open doors, between the wars that have been going on I am beg.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1134502/ I'm no statistician. Math is by no means my area of expertise, I couldn't draw you a graph, charting my adoration along the x-y axis. I could not write up quadratic equations or, a mathematical proof of my love for you.    I'll write in verse of it instead.   .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1125547/ I know rain drop formations, that raindrops don't fall from the sky, but usually from the shape of an oval. I know how to reach difficult places,  to be squeezed into places I don't fit, to be broken into pieces, and loosely  placed back together. I know .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1125534/ I live inside a shell no bells and whistles, just a place I like to hide. Inside, sleeping in a small cold bed, is my self esteem. Placed upon the headboard are the things i'd like to forget. Above that rests a dream catcher, holding onto the good. The wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1125514/ Sleep is the cousin of death, but time is in relation, casket sensations inside the body of a bag.    Flowers that grow don't always bloom in the light. In spite of what you might think, the dead dies with untold secrets    Those lips that kiss as soft as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123322/ Walking quietly down the aisle, surrounded by people dressed in black, 5 year old Asha sat two pews back from the aitar, confused by what was taking place she sat alongside her mother who steadily began wiping tears from her melancholy eyes. Asha watched her baby brother sleep, so peaceful,  s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123295/ A group of children who flee from their homes and are brought together by fate, http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123234/ They say that I'm crazy. That I'm out of my mind. Am I really insane? Or are you just blind? The world is a chest, and we're all trapped inside. Controlled by a force, and have nowhere to hide. The walls, they listen! Beware of their ears! The shadow.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123208/ There's a shipwreck in my chest. A storm brewing. Your fingertips are ocean. The sliding of your hands Tide and Beach   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123204/ You catch dancing dust particles In your hands , and call them magic because they disappear when you open it again, and maybe there is a little magic there, hidden in the fibers of my carpet but dust settles and is swept away it cannot dance forever the sun won&rsq.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1123190/ You males don't want to get to know me intellectually,but make plans to annihilate my body sexuallybecoming angered when dissed and left perpetually lonely.I'll preach my words boldly and coldly until my message is conceived.My thoughts relieved, and now able to breathe, I am clear at mind , ill at .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122924/ It's never the words, before some birds, sense the echo of gunfire. It leads them to flee their trees. We women rest with our mechanical tentacles, and cardboard breasts. As if love was an absolute penance. I bet most have yet to crawl aside, being alone like .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122908/ I'm usually not one for wishes, but if I could, I would wish for simplicity, because complications confuse the brain, and trains may follow tracks, but all roads, must end somewhere. A place where the unknown secrets usually. are told, so where ever you end up, you may&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122901/ They were in love until he clung onto a single flaw and it swallowed them whole gulp.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122678/ When we first kissed  lightning quivered through my body. I shook violently, like trees in the wind. At that moment, I loved you. We were the backwards couple, you tied your shoes before you put them on, and I. I watched you through the rear view mirror&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122629/ It's the love of hip hop  that flows through his headphones, when he's in the zone of creating a verse. It's the love of hip hop that booms loud and proud as he walks through the streets, caked with misunderstanding, but he ices it over with a beat a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122445/ America- The Land of Opportunity Where little boys are shot in cold blood murder, clinching nothing but skittles and draw-stringed hoodies. Their tears are screaming for a mothers’ safety. What a pretty picture- Collection by America the Beautiful. Where elderly w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122438/ Writing beauty into sunsets,  really it wasn't all that perfect, and I like imperfection that your face is not quite symmetrical. Like those guys in Calvin Klien advertisements, because photoshop is a disease of the media.  It breeds in the mind, unt.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122432/ If... you ever got to know me you would know that I like to live on the edge on the run pack up my bags and go whereever, whenever I'm called If you ever got to know me you could tell that the cookies and cream concoction of my skin will relay little about who.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122428/ Her veins are weeping willows I wish to cut down and set ablaze against the winter sky that catches our breath and steals the morning haze with footsteps taken in abandoned pathways cluttered with snow that blends within skin. I wanted to peel the shadows from bene.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DRi/1122423/