I Was Always A Lonely Person When

I Have Watched Them All Day And They Are The Same Men That We Are. I Believe That I Could Walk Up To The Mill And Knock On The Door And I Would Be Welcome Except That They Have Orders To Challenge All Travelers And Ask To See Their Papers. It Is Only Orders That Come Between Us. Those Men Are Not Fascists. I Call Them So, But They Are Not. They Are Poor Men As We Are. They Should Never Be Fighting Against Us And I Do Not Like To Think Of The Killing.

Part Of You Died Each Year When The Leaves Fell From The Trees And Their Branches Were Bare Against The Wind And The Cold, Wintry Light.

Of All Men The Drunkard Is The Foulest. The Thief When He Is Not Stealing Is Like Another. The Extortioner Does Not Practice In The Home. The Murderer When He Is At Home Can Wash His Hands. But The Drunkard Stinks And Vomits In This Own Bed And Dissolves His Organs In Alcohol.

Before You React, Think. Before You Spend, Earn. Before You Criticize, Wait. Before You Quit, Try.

Writing And Travel Broaden Your Ass If Not Your Mind And I Like To Write Standing Up.