I can’t make it true
I can’t make it real...

That inconceivable thought
Runs through my mind...

Wrap yourself in the diffident word of literature,
By opening your psyche to the world unknown...

Calm me down
And bring me to the ground...

I met an angel.
He had something else...

I regret…
The things that I never said to you...

Throughout what logic helped a man
Hopeless, without reason, dig in the sand...

As I struggled, like I often do when...
Writing any kind of literature...

As I look in the mirror I see Tears
Brought from Chaos...

I like watching the moon,
He fills my heart with fire...

First, I would have him compassionate,
Intelligent, looking for incite, and quiet...

Mrs. Van Wyhe gave me
My first sketchbook...