Roses for your girl
but when you are long married...

John picked things up off the ground.
He'd read flyers, old papers...

After they broke up
we continued to like him...

All around me,
separated four or five to a pen...

Eyes will be windows
to the soul unless you are...

The air is heavy with your perfume
pulls me to you like a homing dove...

Old Glory is smartly marched down the aisle
when the opening ceremonies start...

When we met we were silent
- a glance...

He
died with...

Sometimes I just think
how I am supposed to feel...

Give me stormy days;
too much of placidity...

Failure is written on stone
while success is recorded...