I first started writing poetry in High School. I could not in good conscious tell my best friend that I felt like I was "in love" with his sister who was four years younger than me. I often veiled my love in the puzzle of words and sometimes hid it in my art as well. They probably figured out my love for Jenny though when I would come around at night singing billy Joel with my ghetto blaster. Everyone has to have their outlet.

Subsequent to that, I fell in love many times thereafter and poetry was an outlet to express that which I could not express otherwise. Very often, because of this, I often failed in my attempts to woo. Still, I would like to think that even though I had failed in love, as I often do, that there is some residual benefit. After all, it seems, all art must be the result of some sort of suffering.

To be honest though, most of the suffering expressed in verse is that which I brought on myself. Never let it be said that I did not carry on the proud tradition of a martyr gene.

Click on the selected symbol to the left of the poem name in question and you will see the words in verse as requested.