How I sometimes feel,
Stop and think.
About what I want,
Who and when.
I recall,
The loves,
The dreams,
The emotions
Of entwining in outer and inner things to come.
Why do I waste away?
Doing nothing,
In my Mother's and Father's 
Made system.
I shall not fall in the pit of darkness.
In my Who's Who world and place.
I am afraid to question myself.
Why's my night day?
My paradise their hell?
Fall beneath me my dreams.
Constructed without my loved ones.
But by my loved ones.
My world of dreams.
My inner heart,
And soul

© B.Michael Hunter 1970

Some of the handwritten comments — “why” and “thought express” — were offered by B.Michael’s father, Bertram (Meredith) Hunter.

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