~    
        All the poems I write
     are just the beginning
                              and end
               of every thought
   I've ever had about you.

To the scientist a scheme ..
For the poet a dream ..
To riparian Eagle the treetops o'er quiet 'brookside' ..
For elderly man , the hope to shop his scarlet horizon come eventide .
To the Pastor , the promise of salvation's candle in the dark night ..
For the young man freed of theologies chain , however , is to lay claim to every star in the twilight skies ..

Please excuse me for my days of doubt
On these days I have to write it out

Otherwise these feelings stay inside
Get down in my soul and hide

Then eat away all my will
In this these feelings are very skilled

The foster thoughts of death and release
They are definitely a cunning thief

But when I write on these days, they are not sympathy
It's just to get out all the intensity

Knock Knock
It's grim
here to say hi
a bit earlier
than expected
I wonder why
was it something
you did
or just bad luck
either way
you'll be opened up.