Going through some old things, and found the Grady Litterary Mag from 1998... I had two poems published in it, one of which, when I read, reminded me of something I need to remember.

Poems Are Made By Fools Like Me

Poems are made by fools like me,
Who still gape with wonder at the stars,
Who love with blind hope and no expectations,
Who dream of worlds that never were,
And still hope that somehow they might be real.

Poems are made by fools like me,
Who still ignore the evil that we see,
Who long for the tough of warm summer sunlight,
Who dream of grass wet with cool morning dew,
And who never know just quite when
The poem really ends.

I hope, deep inside I still have that little fool inside of me, who dreams and hopes and loves so purely. I must remember to always keep her with me, close to my heart, and to keep that foolishness alive inside.

Are you sure about this?
I am.
Wow, this is pretty heavy.
Yeah, it is. Of course it is. Thats because its filled with mercy.