Scott Dusang is a freelance writer of poetry, music and short stories. His passion for writing throughout the years has manifested a large collection of inspiring work. His unique method of portraying experiences through writing has earned him significant aspiring attention from his readers."it is without prejudice that I long for the day that I can finally find peace with myself. Nothing ever being good enough, nothing complete, nothing shines at it's ultimate glory. I strive on a daily basis to better the facilities my creator gave me.
couples run naked then plunge into the vast sea laughter ensues… through the duration of the night a flock of birds with intense sounds In the distance the still silence then an old man appears gets into his boat and
Too many die every moment around us. Not wounded fatally though, but maimed and left to lurch and die. Too many ‘uv us’re paralysed enough to act. Hamletian syndrome. Too many tongues burnt on pyres fuelling a feudal society. Too
Memory socks all tangled in a mental laundromat Just another peasant playing the aristocrat Treading water with dinosaurs, pajamas dragging me down Dodging rubber bricks, thrown by a circus clown X-ray vision in a room full of bones Mass hypnosis
No more to live in earthly mould, Though siblings not bereft ? Despair in me did clasp its hold, My spirit long since left. No funeral pyre, no gaping clay, Not one sad mourning tear, No blood red rose, nor
I walk through the halls and streets like a zombie empty and alone Wandering aimlessly around curious if she knows I exist. “The past is the past,” they say but the pain is still pain, They also say, “The heart