Glenn S Duquette Author Childrens books and Poetry
@Tooltraction
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The Killer Clown from Down in the Boondocks .The Clown Killer from Down in the Boondocks is a chilling psychological thriller written in a poetic, gritty narrative style. Set deep in rural America, this novel unravels the mind of a twisted serial killer
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"Dancing Under the Sheets".[Jazz Style Song] . Verse 1.Pull the linen from your waist,.red silk fire on your skin. The night is waiting, baby—.let the music draw us in. Whispers fall like saxophone rain,.drums of heartbeat keep the time,.Every sigh a secret note,.every kiss a
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Complications (A Song-Poem). Verse 1 .There once was a man on the way,.Whose shoelaces tangled each day,.He laughed at the curse,.But life only got worse—.Complications all in the way. Chorus .Complications, Complications,.Falling down like endless rain,.Iron threads and
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Life Will Fill in the Rest . Summer’s almost over—.back to school, back to the grind. Supplies stacked like little promises:.pencils, pens, laptops, tablets—.as if the right machine could rewire my mind. But I’m just a kid,.just a kid in a hallway of echoes,.just a kid trying to
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“Darkness, My Friend”. Verse 1.Hello darkness, my faithful friend,.waiting for me just ‘round the bend. I close my eyes. The day is done,.I trade the night for rising sun. Chorus.Darkness, my friend, carry me home,.river of silence, star-lit dome. I’m not afraid, I only sleep,
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The Sailboat and the Secret. We drifted out on silver tide,.his hand on the sail, me at his side. The bay was calm, the island near,.a place where whispers outshone fear. We spread a blanket, shared our bread,.laughed in the sun with hearts that bled. I thought, is he distant,
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Love Found Its End. You’re not the woman I once knew—.sweet and kind, your heart was true. But time has turned, the bond undone,.our days of laughter now overrun. Your words no longer match their sound,.a fragile trust can’t hold its ground. The scene has shifted, cold and
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Doormat Is My Heart. I feel like a doormat—.my woman, she’s wiped her feet.once too many times,.each heel mark a tattoo,.each grain of grit a sermon of neglect. She polishes her soul.by grinding dust into me,.as if my chest were a welcome mat,.as if my heart were nothing.but
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Mary Sue and the Moonlight Bay. Verse 1.She’s my truck handler, my wrench in my hand,.we roll down the highway, free through the land. She pours in the oil, we’re ready to run,.the night’s just beginning, the ride’s just begun. Chorus.Mary Sue, under stars so true,.by the waves
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