Original Poetry and Stories

What dreams we live when dreams do die?
Thrust beneath the autumn sky
As waves go slowly washing by
drowning these lives we lead when dreams do die...
What hopes we sing when freedoms gone?
When days go on for far too long
And oppression rings as all mans song
When dreams have died and hope has gone.
-DL Rose, 01/27/12

Professional Writer (of sorts), advocate, old PnP member, and poet just getting back onto the scene.  Slam Performer Hopeful, with an interesting background and a future that's bright.  Political activist, conspiracy theorist, warrior in waiting.

And can't forget to mention--secret ninja.