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CLEAR

Untitled Document

Garbs Of The Street

Waiting for happiness.

Fear The Jungle

Dance With Me Celts

Remember Me Happy

Ode To You 'Above'

Crack and Cycle Again

I Dream American, I Dream Big

A Gentle Lapping

Amidst The Moon

Anything's Better

Ready For Attack

The Stump of a Young Tree

Un-Suspecting Love

What Does Distortion Create

Dont Touch Anything

These Shutters Are Getting Old

A Form of Neurosis

Opening the Lilies

Member or Guest

Someday They Will Be Grown

Short of Discovery

Synopsis of Trees

Trolling the Isle

Pompous Observations

Trouble With The Looking Glass

Bricks and Mortar

We The Living [Sacrificial Lambs]

The Halo and the Coconut

Grasps Of Bloodshed

What I Have To Do

The Rise in Fall Woolly Bear Caterpillars

Crap Shoot / Wall Climb

There Was But One Monkey

There You Stand

Stop! Spontaneous

The Final Whisper

Turning Nothing Into A Dream

Swat Team Manifesto

Everything's Different

Cut Throat Curiosity

Dungy Rooms and Dark Alleys

The Whole Goddamn Fort Went Down

Assumptions Closing In On Me

High Up in the Mountain Tops

poem id SELECT * FROM poems WHERE poem_id = '60'

DATE		Display		Priority
Title
Body	Ah, those kids are so strong, their song is piped and danced. They accept and play, they baffle me, I wish for their resistance. Ah, those kids are happy, smacking sugar lips; bending arms to show their strong. Ah, those kids are real, they feel and see things as they belong. I watch them as they play and jump, yelling up for them to lay down. Go to bed, shut the door, the lights, Until those smiles turn to frowns. Someday they will all be grown and flown into something mocking real. They will be mechanics, analysts and lawyers. and for youth there's no repeal. Look at those strong kids while they proudly display their dirt. And that is why it breaks my heart, to see them wean their dreams with hurt.
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