One aged man - one man - can't fill a house.
Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves.
Butterflies...flowers that fly and all but sing.
The only way out is to go through
Don't join too many gangs. Join few if any. Join the United States and join the family- But not much in between unless a college.
The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom... in a clarification of life - not necessarily a great clarification, such as sects and cults are founded on, but in a momentary stay against confusion.