The Longer You Wait, And This Is

And After I Dropped Him Off, I Took The Longest Possible Route Home... I Explored Alleys And Hidden Roads I Never Knew Existed. I Discovered Neighborhoods Entirely New To Me. And Finally... I Discovered I Was Sick Of This Town And Everything In It.

When You Hold People Up For Ridicule, You Have To Take Responsibility When Other People Act On It.

The Longer You Wait, And This Is True, The Slower The Hands Will Move.

That’s What I Love About Poetry. The More Abstract, The Better. The Stuff Were Your Not Sure What The Poets Talking About. You May Have An Idea, But You Cant Be Sure. Not A Hundred Percent. Each Word, Specifically Chosen, Could Have A Million Different Meanings. Is It A Stand-in ―a Symbol For Another Idea? Does It Fit Into A Larger, More Hidden, Metaphor? ...i Hated Poetry Until Someone Showed Me How To Appreciate It. He Told Me To See Poetry As A Puzzle. Its Up To The Reader To Decipher The Code, Or The Words, Based On Everything They Know About Life And Emotions.

It Was Love Because It Was Worth It.