I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well

You were the wind beneath my wings but I was Icarus so all I did

Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another

I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response

There is a girl and I love her and I have loved her since the beg… Or so it seems to me as I only became conscious

I see poems that need to be written scrawled in the shape of your smile and the lines of your face

I grew up in a house built in 1937 long before codes and regulations and sometimes

I feel empty unceasingly until you come along and fill my heart to bursting