People Often Say 'i Live For My

Watch The Indolent Butterfly Playing On The Tall Flower In The Yard And Think About The Sun Going Down. It Always Does You Know.

A Poet Can't Afford To Be Aloof. The Tools Of His Trade Are The People He Bumps Up Against.

It's Nice Sometimes To Open Up The Heart A Little And Let Some Hurt Come In. It Proves You're Still Alive.

It Happens Just Because We Need To Want And To Be Wanted Too, When Love Is Here Or Gone To Lie Down In The Darkness And Listen To The Warm.

Poetry Is Fact Given Over To Imagery.