Poetry: A Sliver Of The Moon Lost

It Is Necessary ... For A Man To Go Away By Himself ... To Sit On A Rock ... And Ask, 'who Am I, Where Have I Been, And Where Am I Going?

I Want To Do The Right Thing, But Often I Don't Know Just What The Right Thing Is. Every Day I Know I Have Come Short Of What I Would Like To Have Done. Yet As The Years Pass And I See The Very World Itself, With Its Oceans And Mountains And Plains, As Something Unfinished, A Peculiar Little Satisfaction Hunts Out The Corners Of My Heart. Sunsets And Evening Shadows Find Me Regretful At Task's Undone, But Sleep And The Dawn And The Air Of The Morning Touch Me With Freshening Hopes. 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 Type-font Design For An Alphabet Of Fun, Hate, Love, Death.

Life Goes Before We Know What It Is. / One Fool Is Enough In Any House. / Even God Gets Tired Of Too Much Hallelujah. / Take It Easy And Live Long As Brothers.

The Marvelous Rebellion Of Man At All Signs Reading "keep Off.