Pen and Paper
I am the slave,
the pen is my master.
It commands me to write,
more and more, faster and faster.
The paper is calling,
it’s screaming my name.
Why do they force me,
have they no shame?
Forced are my thoughts,
through the pen they do flow.
Who are they to coerce,
are they friends, are they foe?
I wish to stop now,
asylum I do seek.
For my hand does grow tired,
as well my mind grows weak.
But they won’t allow me to stop,
there’s no ending in sight.
They demand I continue,
so I shall… write, write, write.
The Tariff-ick Lies Being Told
One of the things that sent me on this tirade was receiving a “LinkedIn News” email with four anti-tariff propaganda stories – all incredibly misleading. Isn’t it funny how no one ever really spoke about tariffs prior to Trump? Personally, I’ve believed they were a serious problem for most of my life. Still, due to the lack of public conversations, most people have been oblivious to tariffs and their impact on the American economy. If you suffer from TDS (Trump Derangement Syndrome), then it won’t matter what I say [...]
Subscribe To My Newsletter
BE NOTIFIED ABOUT NEW RELEASES, BOOK SIGNINGS, TOUR DATES, ETC
Your information will never be sold or shared.
