What If Someone Gave A

Somebody's Little Girl- How Easy It Is To Make A Sob Story Over Who She Once Was And Who She Now Is.

The More Rhymethere Isin Poetry The More Dangerof Its Tricking The Writer Into Something Other Than The Urge In The Beginning.

Strange Things Blow In Through My Window On The Wings Of The Night Wind And I Don't Worry About My Destiny.

Poetry Is A Search For Syllables To Shoot At The Barriers Of The Unknown And The Unknowable.

Tell No Man Anything, For No Man Listens Yet Hold Thy Lips Ready To Speak.