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About This Author
 Writing poetry allows me to exercise my imagination and share it with others. I strive to write for the benefit of the reader using carnival fun mirror images of my life's experiences.
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| They broke the glass for access, Entered my quaint abode, Why take only the paper, Hanging beside the commode? It was in no way special, Makes no difference to me, But why'd they take the tissue, Then simply turn 'round and flee? No matter what the reason, Whatever cause they espouse, I would've freely given, All the tissue in my house. The question keeps me thinking, A pox grows inside my brain, The answers aren't so easy, When the act is so insane. Wherever we may wonder, Wherever we choose to go, Sometimes we have to admit, They're things we'll never know.
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