To be left alone on the tightrope of youthful unknowing is to experience the excruciating beauty of full freedom and the threat of eternal indecision.
Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody Can make it out here alone.
I answer the heroic question, 'Death, where is thy sting?' with 'It is in my heart and mind and memories.
You never get over the fear of writing.
Preach it, I say preach it.
Poetry is music written for the human voice.