There Is No Hate Such As That

I Am A Pretty, Useless Ornament Who Always Believed She'd Have A Man To Take Care Of Her.

Seek The Tarnish And You Shall Find

At The End Of The Rainbow Waited The Pot Of Gold. But Rainbows Were Made Of Faint And Fragile Gossamer-and Gold Weighed A Ton-and Since The World Began, Gold Was The Reason To Do Most Anything.

If You Hold A Bird Too Tightly, You'll Crush Its Wings

It Is So Appropriate To Color Hope Yellow, Like The Sun We Seldom Saw. And As I Begin To Copy From The Old Memorandum Journals That I Kept For So Long, A Title Comes As If Inspired. 'open The Window And Stand In The Sunshine.' Yet, I Hesitate To Name Our Story That. For I Think Of Us More As Flowers In The Attic.