How long should a poem be

There will be cobbler.


I was so vulnerable. I was a sitting duck.


And so it is finally revealed on the global stage: so much of what we chalk up to just the way things are is deliberately and maliciously manufactured



On the garage door, above a large white heart: The only way out is through 



Does not doing make you buzz with electricity, or does it feel tinged with avoidance or depression? Pay attention.



He washed the purple bowl for me.



Take note of the tug inside--that's part of who you really are.



Food for thought. Check plus.