Colours Are What Drive Me Most Strongly.

This Is The Simplest Of All Thoughts, That Death Must Come When We Call, Although He Is A God.

All Poetry Has To Do Is To Make A Strong Communication. All The Poet Has To Do Is Listen. The Poet Is Not An Important Fellow. There Will Also Be Another Poet.

As Nature Is Always Careless And Indifferent Who Sees, Who Steps, Means Nothing And This Is Pretty.

It Is The Privilege Of The Rich To Waste The Time Of The Poor To Water With Tears In Secret A Tree That Grows In Secret That Bears Fruit In Secret That Ripened Falls To The Ground In Secret And Manures The Parent Tree Oh The Wicked Tree Of Hatred And The Secret The Sap Rising And The Tears Falling.

Why Does My Muse Only Speak When She Is Uhnhappy? She Does Not, I Only Listen When I Am Unhappy.