What Makes The Engine Go? Desire, Desire,

What Makes The Engine Go? Desire, Desire, Desire.

I Can Hardly Wait For Tomorrow, It Means A New Life For Me Each And Every Day.

In My Darkest Night, When The Moon Was Covered And I Roamed Through Wreckage, A Nimbus-clouded Voice Directed Me: "live In The Layers, Not On The Litter." Though I Lack The Art To Decipher It, No Doubt The Next Chapter In My Book Of Transformations Is Already Written. I Am Not Done With My Changes.

A Poem Has Secrets That The Poet Knows Nothing Of.

The Ear Writes My Poems, Not The Mind.