I Cried Over Beautiful Things,

There Are Dreams Stronger Than Death. Men And Women Die Holding These Dreams.

Be Careful With Your Words, Once They Are Said, They Can Only Be Forgiven, Not Forgotten.

And Even Now She Beats Her Head Against The Bars In The Same Old Way And Wonders If There Is A Bigger Place The Railroads Run To From Chicago Where Maybe There Is Romance And Big Things And Real Dreams That Never Go Smash.

Poetry Is An Art Practiced With The Terribly Plastic Material Of Human Language.

By Night The Skyscraper Looms In The Smoke And The Stars And Has A Soul.