Ric Porter Poems

A thousand tomorrows pasted us, in the wink of an eye, they passed us without pause, rhyme or reason, conscience or cause.

The song that was Peter DeMarco was to, to short. That song now a beautiful melodic unfinished work of untold proportion and promise leaves us wanting more.
The case that Peter came in was flawed, eventually failed him and he was called home.
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Only a fool believes...
there is subtle difference between "holding a hand and chaining a soul"

Hands are meant to be held, souls are meant for caring caress, a "chained soul" never grows close to it's captor.
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