To William Mowell I do say br would you go back to church and pray. br Your poems are so very odd br that only Lucifer or God br could take the time to look and see br your crappy, lousy misery. br I do suggest you do refrain br from coming here to spread your pain, br if hanging from the tallest tree br is not for you (as it could be) , br I say go drown your many sorrows br in all your asinine tomorrows. br Fred Gold (a relative perhaps?) br is one of those demented chaps, br you take up space and take up time br but cannot write a single rhyme.