the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.

we must bringour own lightto thedarkness.

where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die,

I see a brightportionunder the overhead lightthat shades intodarknessand then into darkerdarknessand I can't see beyond that.

there are so many dayswhen living stops and pulls up and sitsand waits like a train on the rails.

I do think that poetry is important though, if you don’t strive at it, if you don’t fill it full of stars and falseness.

And then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw.

it's so easy to be a poetand so hard to be a man.

I wait on my fix:I am a poetry junkie.