And let me ask you this: the dead, where aren't they?

literature will lose, sunlight will win, don't worry.

This is no occupation for an adult who can look other adults in the eye, carry his own weight, and count himself one of them.

Thank You for letting me live for a little as one of thesane; thank You for letting me know what this islike. Thank You for letting me look at your frighteningblue sky without fear, and your terrible world withoutterror, and your loveless psychotic and hopelesslylost with this love

Poetry, just because it is poetry, doesn't mean it is some kind of magic spell.