I Think I Made A Mistake With

Other Than Fiction And Poetry I Tend To Read History.

These People You Used To See Every Day, Friends Or Acquaintances, After A While They Become As Distant As Any Stranger, People You Suddenly Recall Late At Night--you Remember Something They Said Or Something Silly That Someone Once Did. For A Few Moments They Completely Occupy Your Mind; Then You Forget Them Again.

A Poem Is A Window That Hangs Between Two Or More Human Beings Who Otherwise Live In Darkened Rooms.

There Are Many Reasons For Violence. This Is Just Something That Sometimes Happens. We'd See It In Treatment Centers - The Child Who'd Suffered Something Awful. Even In The Best Recovery There'd Be A Fear That Everything Would Fall Apart And They'd Become Victims Again. And Their Final Loyalty Was To Themselves. They Couldn't Be Forced. They Preferred To Wreck Everything, Preferred Self-destruction To Surrender. (175)

Let's Say Someone Has Experienced A Violent Trauma Or Betrayal: A Child Has Been Raped By A Parent Or Has Witnessed The Destruction Of Someone He Loves Or Has Been So Traumatized By The Possibility Of Beatings And Punishments That He's Afraid To Act. If The Trauma Is Great Enough, That Person's Life May Become Frozen, Emotionally Frozen Even Though He Still Gets Up In The Morning, Is Busy All Day, And Goes To Bed At Night. But There's This Empty Space That Begins To Fill With Rage, Rage Toward Everyone - The Perpetrator, The People In The World Who Haven't Suffered, Even Toward Himself. (174)