A Broken Spoon May Be

It's Strange How Pain Marks Our Faces, And Makes Us Look Like Family.

It's The Pool Where We All Go Down To Drink, To Swim, To Catch A Little Fish From The Edge Of The Shore; It's Also The Pool Where Some Hardy Souls Go Out In Their Flimsy Wooden Boats After The Big Ones. It Is The Pool Of Life, The Cup Of Imagination, And She Has An Idea That Different People See Different Versions Of It, But With Two Things Ever In Common: It's Always About A Mile Deep In The Fairy Forest, And It's Always Sad. Because Imagination Isn't The Only Thing This Place Is About.

I Write In The Mornings, In The Bright Daylight. But I Get Most Of My Good Ideas After The Sun Has Gone Down And The Dark Is On The Land.

Close Your Eyes And Click Your Heals Three Times...because There's No Place Like Dome.

The Lord Is My Shepherd. I Shall Not Want For Nothing. He Makes Me Lie Down In The Green Pastures. He Greases Up My Head With Oil. He Gives Me Kung-fu In The Face Of My Enemies. Amen