I am a butterfly poetbirthed from painflying with the freedomof my verses.

Foggy nights bring some comfort.He can get lost in the mistand there is no one to stare or question.

How do I learn to speakwhen silence is all I know?

But the walls of my resolvemortared with stubbornnesshave been breached by circumstancesI cannot handle alone.

Let me live my final days whole.Let my memory remain that I might know love's face.Life don't unwrap me to be fed to scavengers.I want to escape into light - not exist in darkness.

I seek to be moved, my imagination reborn.Let me feast on poems that feed my hunger.

I now know how your angercame from skeletonsthat rattled in your heartand you couldn't escape them.

I am lost in my world, invisible - unknown.Moon please lend meyour light that someonewill me see me.

If there is passion, let me feel its heat.I want my heart to beat fast, my breath raspy, my skin to burn.

I didn't know the demonsthat walked across your memory.They came from the dustwhen you were at peacein your grave.

Far too many Americans formulate their own personal expert opinions based on the Golden Rule and the Eight-second Soundbyte.

The principle of universality is not a 'theory'. Just moral truism.

This isn't kissing. This is savoring your taste.

It’s a myth that an entrepreneur cannot work in a corporation. It’s all in the mindset.

History, having destroyed the religion as the opium of the people, now requires that they be given a taste of the real stuff.

Out of the way! We are in the throes of an exceptional emergency! This is no occassion for sport- there is lace at stake!" (Ms. Pole)

Behind a veil, unseen yet present, I was the forceful soul that moved this mighty body.

The only reason why you were WWE Champion for a year, is because Triple H didn't want to work Tuesdays.

You can make yourself happy or miserable - it's the same amount of effort.