Anger does not sleep and if it ever did, I doubt it would ever dream, if it did I'd pity the man that bears witness to it. A man that encircles himself with anger, might as well be encircled with gunfire. I cannot speak for myself, I cannot explain what I did, or why I did it, but not because I don't know what I did or simply can't fathom my reasoning. I can't explain myself because I don't regret it.
I called out stupidity and was persecuted by the stupid. I regret nothing other than not pointing it out sooner. Some of my friends have turned on me, some have joined me in merriment and laughter, I know now where their loyalties lie.
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A Walk Through Life
PoetryThrough this cold and lonely world we walk with bare feet on course gravel and this book is like a pair of sandals. Those who want to find a better way to think should read this. Some of these poems will make you smile and laugh and some might make...
