Love is so over-rated. (Unless you are Italian), *Sigh*, but I'm also a scorpio so there goes that. ;)

I got I and II. III did not follow my track.

This is well written. Seems love has been unfair eh?

I admire anyone who can be enamored with life. Tis not an ailment from which I suffer.

I agree with p&k aboout the poem AND the Sens!! I feel decieved, Bill. This was written like a Leafs fan: strong for two periods but surrendering to the curse in the end. Best of luck in this new season of hockey and poetry. I fear you may need it. Yours Truly A Concerned Fan

A very vivid take on feeling I've not had in some time. Thanx for reminding me!

Damn I love this poem. I think I love you Christof.

Just the way I like to approach every day. Yes! Life is good.

So are you actually holding the ashes or are they in an urn, or just in the plastic box from the morgue. Really, I only think the song could be successful if Kermit the Frog were to sing and play it (capo on the 3rd) on kind bud. But that is just me.

Ha, you had me going there for a minute.

P.S. Definitely a poem!

I thought I already gave this a Ten, well here's another if so. It deserves a thousand. This discribes my dad perfectly, May he rest in peace.Thank you.

Yea, o.k. Tadpole, now I can start returning the high marks you've given me. Thanks, and keep 'em comin'.

Young people are trapped in an endless cycle of rhetorical questions. Bummer. And, seven years bad luck. Look what it has done to the Cubs and all because of a curse put on the team by a tavern owner who could not bring his goat to a World Series game. Now there is something to think about next time you pick up the pencil.

I really don’t get the sense that you have ever worked a dead-end job in your life, thus when you attempt to write about it you actually have to mention the phrase instead of creating or conjuring a metaphor that would get the job done with the desired effect. But since the experience is not there you would never think to come up with that. Nor do you even understand the concept of buying or selling or what is bought or sold by those who sell and buy. And then, yet more rhetorical questions. Think about it.

"or my poetry might get worse" would work much better. Otherwise, one demerit, therefore, a 9. Quite funny, but stolen from muah.

Yes, why indeed? This poeme strikes a profound chord deep within me. 10.

It's good to see another Christian on poemeranker. Honestly, that bloody devil. USA! USA!

This reminds me of the time I tried to construct a synthetic butler from a surplus beggar and a discount plus-sized wedding dress. It was tremendously exciting until I realised I had given him the powerful hind legs of a bee, and he simply leapt over the manor into the rolling green hills of Weatherby Estate. But good heavens, enough about me. This is an astoundingly stupid poeme, Sir. -10-

Perhaps you will grow a long black arm. The Arm of Nigritude they will call it. -10-