Poems from christina crocker
If it was for me. It could be meant to be. There's a chance for you and me. Asking
me for a dance is like counting the stars by hand....
Cinderella had her slipper, which was made of glass. Something so small, yet
so delicate. And I, much like cinderella, have something made...
A mother's hatred for a child is like a gun shot through the heart, A father's absence
is like a never ending nightmare, A grandmother's...