Maybe Thats Because We Take Criticism Best

There Is No Hate Such As That Born Out Of Love Betrayed- And My Brain Screamed Out For Revenge.

It Was The Eyes. The Secret Of Love Was In The Eyes. The Way One Person Looked At Another, The Way Eyes Communicated And Spoke When The Lips Never Moved.

Patience. I Colored Patience Gray, Hung Over With Black Clouds. I Colored Hope Yellow, Just Like The Sun We Could See For A Few Short Morning Hours. Too Soon The Sun Rose High In The Sky & Disappeared From View, Leaving Us Bereft And Staring At Blue.

I Don't Think She's Ever Coming Back.

Seek The Tarnish And You Shall Find