There Are No Honest Poems About Dead

Stoicism And Silence Does Not Serve Us Nor Our Communities, Only The Forces Of Things As They Are.

My Fear Of Anger Taught Me Nothing.

In The Recognition Of Loving Lies The Answer To Despair.

You Will Never Be Able To Defend Your City While Shouting.

Tomorrow Belongs To Those Of Us Who Conceive Of It As Belonging To Everyone; Who Lend The Best Of Ourselves To It, And With Joy.