Eight Day Weeks Between sunny Sundays and blue Mondays, laid a day so dark and full of hate that it shall not be named. Gray There's no black, there's no white. There's no wrong, there's no right. There's no good, there's no evil. There's no dark, there's no light; because just before the looming storm, exists distant, infinite shades of gray. Thoughts and Prayers When a national tragedy becomes just another day and the news is always "BREAKING", grab a letter sized white envelope and fill it with all of the thoughts and prayers from your big heart and your little head, then lick and seal it shut before they escape into the open air, stick on a stamp, and wait until the next day's tragedy for the address to mail it to your child's school. Hello Sorrow Hello Sorrow my first friend, will you allow me to drown in burning rivers of fire water, or float like a hollow log as you hover over the ghostly souls of all who you have met before, until you arrive to make the skies cry, or will you keep me afloat like a log flowing downstream, and we meet again, my last friend. Even When You're Dead Even when you're dead the neurons keep firing ping-zing-bing-ding against the inside of the skull, but tricking others into thinking that figeting, flickering and flinching doesn't mean that you're still living.