Page 17
By Jack Joseph Smith
Worry
Sucide is a place
To begin makes no sence
Institualized catches
Or possibly it does not
I watch the wind
And I know how it grows
I have done the dert
But with my mother
I remember it was fun
Didn't you see the glimmer there
no matter where you were
Rise up sand and soil
Look down in a proper way
mountains we can see and those
The greatest attraction of the sea
is nothing but the comfort of death