Rowan Finley

Joined February 2019

1214 stories

Bio

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Stories (1214)

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Pales in Comparison
Subtle were your sins in years past, but now they are blatant in my flashbacks, forever will they last? Oh, the dull constant ache in my soul,
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Instead
There is no finesse like Nature herself, as she sings over the horses and the cattle. The grass will ever-prattle and dance to the waves of the wind.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Lies That Can Burn in Hell
Suicide is now my only option. I will never be able to forgive what that person did to me. I will never be able to forgive myself for what I did.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Jesse Paul Garland
On January 28th, 1993 a beautiful boy blossomed forth into the world, a ray of sunshine and joy filled the lives of so many.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Body Paint
You're beautifully unique every single evening, I never grow weary of holding you with my eyes that are teary. When the hustle of the world doesn't notice you, please know, I do,
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
I was played
My voice was calming and sweet Through the years, a form of love was a faithful treat I got played and broken badly My life took some shocking turns, sadly
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
I Wish I Could Have Known You Better
I wish I could have known you better. I know that your name was Jesse, just like mine, and that you were twenty-eight, just like me.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Whispers of Smoke and Patches of Love
Butterfly vibrato caressed the violin and cello strings sweetly. Sexy scotch warmed my mouth and throat, like fire, I embraced it.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
No doubt, you are my portal out
No doubt, you are my portal out. We'll do plenty of summersaults in raining skittles, back-to-back, we'll scale up tight ally walls of hardened Jell-O,
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
The Not-So-Subtle-Puddle
A very smart man went for a walk and stopped in front of the not-so-subtle-puddle and asked, "Puddle, Puddle on the ground, am I the smartest man to be found?"
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Instead, I will choose to see.... Top Story - July 2022.
I'll give and give and keep on giving until there's nothing left. They'll take and take and keep on taking and it's all a theft.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Poets
Unexpected Flight
They climbed up on a haystack and rested, quite out of breath from running. Although the sun was at its peak, the slight breeze worked wonders as it brushed against their faces. "This is so picturesque!" Raymie said, while taking a deep breath. And it was, the feel, the smell of the haystack, the way the clouds sailed across the sky.
By Rowan Finley 4 years ago in Fiction