The Rhythm Of Life Is A Jazz

I Loved My Friend He Went Away From Me There's Nothing More To Say The Poem Ends, Soft As It Began- I Loved My Friend.

Misery Is When You Heard On The Radio That The Neighborhood You Live In Is A Slum But You Always Thought It Was Home.

Hold Fast To Dreams, For If Dreams Die, Life Is A Broken-winged Bird That Cannot Fly.

Hang Yourself, Poet, In Your Own Words. Otherwise, You Are Dead.

I Went Down To The River, I Set Down On The Bank. I Tried To Think But Couldn't, So I Jumped In And Sank.