At the end of every summer when fall comes, you see the leaves fall and pity my tree. All through winter you doubt what’ll become of me, yet come spring, your eyes gleam green with envy at the harvest summer brings

I don’t want a title, but I can’t fit in your closet

I tried, are poor last words, try to live, to say I did, then do, everything you can, to prove, not to any man but the one within so when the final words are said, they're not about you but the ones in the room, watching you go through

Is there another way to be? Without deceiving my values, for yes, I do have them, is there another way to know? Without having to throw out, all that I've ever known

Tired, broken and frail, soon the sun will prevail, the moon will hide again and the wolves will remenence of time ill spent until the sun descends again, and the endless waltz begins

Each day begins a new, peace saves more than a few and for Pete's sake, he forsook a jew, three takes to begin a new, THE saint, was once a fool.

Rather, I enjoy this Weather , gray and gloomy, as the rain hails down, to work I zoom and do dream, of a night where Mr who knows who can rail and spoon me, derailed I spoonfeed, words of poetry to those that wish to intimidate and subdue me but now the rain has subsided, the sun is shining and the fire rises, this light inside i can no longer hide it, it's warm and vibrant, it'll come again by the end of lent

The first of many, beware the ides, towards the end, I'll die, ill by pride