"4/98"
Busta's coming
no one wants to work
there will be a murder
Busta will leave

"A Poem"
Black coat
blonde hair
Blue eyes
to die for
clueless

(6/1/99)
Black is pure,
black is strong,
black suggests
so little and
yet so
much

"Another Poem"
life blows up in your face
and you stand, with your
head in your hands
G-d, that hurt!

"Them"
A loving touch
A warm embrace
And I see it clearly
Cause it will never be me

"SELF"
the lines of
my hand
trace the lines of
my life...
my fate
oct. 2000