It Was A Rainy Night. It Was

The Truth Of The Matter Is We Don't Understand Our Women; We Blame On Them And It's All Our Fault.

Paris Is A Woman But London Is An Independent Man Puffing His Pipe In A Pub.

Why Did I Allow Myself To Be Bored Ever In The Past And To Compensate For It Got High Or Drunk Or Rages Or All The Tricks People Have Because They Want Anything But Serene Understanding Of Just What There Is, Which Is After All So Much.

We Tiptoed Around Each Other Like Heartbreaking New Friends.

Way Far Back In The Beginning Of The World Was The Whirlwind Warning That We Could All Be Blown Away Like Chips And Cry- Men With Tired Eyes Realize It Now, And Wait To Deform And Decay- With Maybe They Have The Power Of Love Yet In Their Hearts Just The Same, I Just Don't Know What That Word Means Anymore- All I Want Is An Ice Cream Cone