Who do you go to when there's nothing left?

Well I know it's been a while since I've posted much of anything. Most of my work has been either focused toward school or work on the videogame (which is going quite well actually). I made an A on my history test which was honestly a toughy. I've kinda been working on a logo for our production company. But what I've come up with is only a decent premise rather than a quality commercial logo. Does anybody know of a good program (preferably cheap) that might suit my need of commercial quality graphic art? I also might enjoy playing with some of my bitmap graphics for the actual game with said program. Right now I've been strictly using MS Paint which is the bottom of the barrel basics, but I've been accomplishing a good bit with simply that. Anyway, I have a take-home exam to go write up about the roles of women in "Taming of the Shrew," "Hamlet," and "A Doll's House." (The last one is quite a jump from the first two which makes writing it a bit easier. But since it was a take-home exam it had better be pretty good. So I'll try and catch you all later and I'll try to update more often! Don't forget to let me know about that program!
-James

P.S.
I posted a poem a while back, but I recently editted it and submitted it for a class workshop and thought I'd share it with ya'll.

"The Last Hero"

-James Mungall

Dark clouds encircle the sky above me,
And lightning strikes at the heels of my steed.
In the plain my foes surround me.
Where are the heroes of which I'm in need?
Where once there was a green open plain,
Now is gone like a shadow in the presence of God.
Where to He only do I open my shame.
I brace my heart and cast my lot.

And through the mist and darkness comes
My foes toward me in the haze;
And through the wind's whispering hums
Tears—in the darkest of days.
Days that now are slowly ending;
My spear comes forth to defend.
Devils now their bows are bending,
My life from body arrows to rend.


The silence before the storm is passing,
And thunder sounds above my head.
Rolling like the tide, each the next surpassing.
And showered by the warm rain of the daed—
And as the rain flows from my veins,
I clench my spear to defend.
And through the world’s fading pains—
To whatever end—to whatever…
End.