I have always aspired to be a writer, always wanted to have the words that draws in the reader, but I could never say anything just right it was all always wrong. But the freedom I have gained through the wisdom that I have acquired has sent me on an upper ward spiral of happiness. Words have given me the outlet to express my feeling to tell, no yell the truth to all who listen. But words are the most dangerous weapons ever created. They can be your saviour, but also your devil. Words can make you stronger, but yet make you so weak. Be careful what you write, for it might become true.
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Stories by Cassandra J. Wolverton
The Boy I love, but the Man I Hate
She loves the boy that he shows, the fun caring boy that would give his life for her, but she hates the man...
Poems to the Dearly Departed
A small collection of poems that flow from the heart which has been pricked by the red thorn of grief and los...
The Truth about Me
Everyone thinks they know me so well, just wait tell you really know who I am, will you still be my friend th...
