I Wonder Why People Like To Believe

All The Poems Have Wolves In Them. All But One. The Most Beautiful One Of All. She Dances In A Ring Of Fire And Throws Off The Challenge With A Shrug.

The Time To Hesitate Is Through No Time To Wallowin The Mire Try Now We Can Only Lose And Our Love Become A Funeral Pyre

I Offer Images-i Conjure Memories Of Freedom That Can Still Be Reached-like The Doors, Right? But We Can Only Open The Doors-we Can't Drag People Through.

People Are Strange When You're A Stranger.

Nobody Would Stay Interested In Me If I Was Normal