Any hand can condem, but it takes a helping hand to build.

The music is a vibration in the brain rather than the ear.

To be loved is all I need, And whom I love, I love indeed.

My heart is small, like a love of buttons or black pepper.

I've written some poetry I don't understand myself

My Personalityunfolding before youlike a Swiss Army knife.

John Keats / John Keats / John / Please put your scarf on.

But you hate poetry!Yes, but you make me want to write it.

clouds very high looknot one word helped them get up there

A chronic poet should always be an inveterate nature-lover.

I am awaitingperpetually and forevera renaissance of wonde

we're lost where the mind can't find usutterly lost

At any moment, you know, your manufactured cool could blow.

This is definitely / for the brothers / who ain't here.

I drink from a small spring, / my thirst excedes the ocean.