Deeply saddened by the events that took place April 20th 1999 at Columbine High School, I was inspired to write this poem after seeing a picture of the memorial that was erected on the hill near the High School, to which followed a spiritual dream. Fifteen Crosses stand on the hill one for each of the lives lost.

I'm getting sick of all the violence and death we see today... Schools are getting threatened, and after the Colorado shooting I got very defensive. This is how I feel.

P.S. My sympathy and apologies to the victims and families

This poem was a bitter cry to the corporate world on "downsizing" and the changing world of employment.

It was a way of working through the devastating feelings and questions that a dedicated employee is faced with.

When the rumors begin to fly, and the corporate secrecy begins to take it's toll on the lives of those in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, all the employees wanted … were some honest answers.

All this fighting scares me, and I guess writing this poem was my own way of dealing with my feelings. I am dedicating this poem to those who have served and died for our country.

Seems senseless to have to post this in a category of Life . . . when, in fact, it is about the very cruel and savage taking of lives. We cannot afford this loss. Dedicated to the lost teens of the Littleton, Colorado, high school shooting rampage. May you rest with God.

This poem is a response to the news about the convoy of civilians hit in the war in Kosovo

This is a poem that I think sums up my feelings on this brisk April night. It is the Easter season of the final century of this millennium. That has meaning to me.

The inspiration for this poem came to me through a dream. In this dream I saw how pure and good this earth once was. Now, through its degradation by pollution, war, and the over-exhaustion of resources, we may be destroying our only home.

I cried when I saw the carnage of the Massacre at Columbine High School in Littleton Colorado. Such a beautiful place, such an ugly occurrence, and such a terrible waste of young lives ready to bloom. I was compelled to write, the following day, about the perpetrators. I don't know why, the words just seemed to come to me, so I wrote them. I truly pray there will never be another event such as this one.

This poem is what I have learned through many years of not having friends and believing it was due to the way I looked. I have learned that looks are not everything in life.