Ever since he was but a boy,

he was not given much reason to feel joy,

his mother died when he was born,

his father blame him for her lifelessness,

by the time Christopher was as high as a cornstock,

he was sent away to his grandmother's farm,

grabdmother Abagail was a stern old woman,

Christopher could never, ever appease her,

one day he had finally cleaned out the stalls,

grand mother made him do it again,

the night had been cold,

Christopher died of phenomena that fateful night,

died feeling that he never was quite right

I would choose to disappear, then expose all the liars and cheaters. I'd do everything in my power to make the world a more transparent and better place. Scheming politicians would be exposed, as well as crooked cops, and dirty corperations. After all the stones have been left upturned, I'd reappear, in a safer and fairer world.

my favorite time of year is almost here

full of leaves and coffee

wearing baggy sweaters and chilling weather

right in between the searing heat of July

and the desolate meat locker of janurary

when I can still take walks into town freely

unencumbered by the white ice caps of snow, snow, snow