States Strong Enough To Do Good Are

Poetry Is A Reaching Out Forward Expression, An Effort To Find Fulfillment

Keep All Ur Troubles In Ur Own Pocket. But, Make Sure That The Pocket Has A Hole!

Whose Woods These Are I Think I Know. His House Is In The Village Though; He Will Not See Me Stopping Here To Watch His Woods Fill Up With Snow.

Yet Some Say Love By Being Thrall And Simply Staying Possesses All In Several Beauty That Thought Fares Far To Find Fused In Another Star.

The Chance Is The Remotest, Of Its Going Much Longer Unnoticed, That I'm Not Keeping Pace With The Headlong Human Race