Thoughts are like prayers
with a purpose:
Can I change the world?
Can I even change myself?
Is there some cause to my anger,
my confusion, my embarrassment?
Like seeing eye to eye with the guy who
just finished using the public bathroom
publish or perish
publish or perish
publish to perish
lose it, forever
lose yours to gain theirs
write, speak, sing, cry
realize your limit
beat it to death
till it gives way,
gives up.
or you do
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
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Writers never die
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