Member Poem

Some thoughts are like destructive tenants
you can't get rid of
and some are like birds you glimpse
for a moment and they're gone
I like the birds

At the end of the day
some things are done
and some things were not
some things were said
some things went unsaid
something grows tired
and puts it all down
next to the bed
perhaps to be picked up
the following day
perhaps to
never return