all i ever wanted was to meet a sincere person who would accept me for who i am.
*
people write poems about trees and rocks and flowers and clouds and the sun and the moon and the sky and rivers and oceans but who really cares about any of that stuff?
i just want to meet a sincere person.
*
i hated being a child and a teenager but i was afraid to grow up and have to find a job.
i hate being alive but i am afraid to die.
i guess a lot of people feel the same way.
that is why i don’t understand why they are not nicer and more sincere.
*
a man looked out a window at a tree.
it had been there the day before and the day before that and it was still there.
he decided to make himself a piece of toast and put raspberry jelly on it.
that man was me!
*
but even if i am, so what?
it does not mean people can’t be nice to me.
*
why do people have to be so nasty?
i just don’t get it.
*
a bird flew through the air.
the sky was blue.
then it landed in a tree.
then it flew off again.
a man walked down the street.
he did not have any money.
or any friends.
nobody cared.
a bug crawled across the sidewalk.
the man with no friends did not even see it.
did the bug see him?
the man did not think about the bug because he did not even see it.
did the bug think about him?
did it think, i better hurry across this sidewalk before that monster steps on me?
who is more alive, the man or the bug?
who is more sincere?
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