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...it's any good? My voice is soft, So much so, That I might be speaking And you’d never know With footsteps small Against the track I’ll trudge on forward And won’t look back. I’ll run, escape. I’ll try to flee To a town of people Just like me. We’ll talk together quietly In tennis...

I was at a very impressionable, young age when my father told me, “The most important thing is that a lot of people know your name. Because anyone who tells you that life isn’t a popularity contest is either really stupid or really bitterly unpopular.” I nodded in agreement. Undoubtedly, my...

what about a girl, standing beside an empty Birdiecage, looking out a window at a bird flying away.