Art by Norman E. Masters
From the center of what less poetically is my guts some how something wrenches screams, twists is it me? oh God it is me holes in me and in my stomach Let me take those holes out and put them on this paper Some one screamed I love you but the echo fades away. Love comes easy love comes hard it's almost the same as falling backwards into infinity laughing at LIFE The Youngest Among Us Cried. It was no different than before. Tears are the silent language of grief. Remember me? No one. No one. See? See?