No One Here Gets Out Alive.

That’s What Real Love Amounts To - Letting A Person Be What He Really Is....most People Love You For Who You Pretend To Be....to Keep Their Love, You Keep Pretending - Performing. You Get To Love Your Pretense...it’s True, We’re Locked In An Image, An Act - And The Sad Thing Is, People Get So Used To Their Image - They Grow Attached To Their Masks. They Love Their Chains. They Forget All About Who They Really Are. And If You Try To Remind Them, They Hate You For It - They Feel Like You’re Trying To Steal Their Most Precious Possession.

Where's Your Will To Be Weird?

Indians Scattered On Dawn's Highway Bleeding/ghosts Crowd The Young Child's Fragile Eggshell Mind.

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.

Each Generation Wants New Symbols, New People, New Names. They Want To Divorce Themselves From Their Predecessors.