Poetry Is A Diary Kept By A

Poetry Is A Mock Of A Cry At Finding A Million Dollars And A Mock Of A Laugh At Losing It.

Such A Big Miracle In Such A Tiny Baby. Big Things Often Have Small Beginnings A Baby Is God's Opinion That Life Should Go On.

Poetry Is An Exhibit Of One Pendulum Connecting With Other And Unseen Pendulums Inside And Outside The One Seen.

To Those Who Had Ordered Them To Death, One Of Them Said: “we Die Because The People Are Asleep And You Will Die Because The People Will Awaken.”

There Is An Eagle In Me That Wants To Soar, And There Is A Hippopotamus In Me That Wants To Wallow In The Mud.