We all went to dinner; me, myself
We sat on one chair, we don’t know
I did most of the talking
Myself quietly listening
Poor old me, all me could do was s

If I were dead, and, in my place,
Some fresher youth designed
To warm thee, with new fires; and
Those arms I left behind:
Were he as faithful as the Sun,

I see myself in the poppy seeds an
In the dying grass,
In the crisp, singing breeze;
Under the breadth of sky,
Atop the breast of the sea;

Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee?
“An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully.
Tell me, what is the present hour?

October comes, and the leaves turn
In the fall of the year they fall
Waking up sometimes to a cloudy sk
Autumn leaves are falling from tre
So much beauty to see at this time

A born salesman,
my father made all his dough
by selling wool to Fieldcrest, Wo
A born talker,
he could sell one hundred wet—down

We were young both inexperience &
You were always there, never absen
You were jealous, you got angry wh
When I was around you...You didn’
You crave my attention for days.

No weight, no strength,
No good, no wealth
Nor chances dealt,
No oath, no plan
Nor having felt

By Stanley Collymore
There’s beauty and there’s attract
while the former is very difficult
times impossible to quantify, the
characteristics that make beauty h

There are similarities
I notice: that the hills
which the eyes make flat as a wall
together, open as I move
to let me through; become

When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big jok
A dance that’s walked
A song that’s spoke,