In the poem I stated "But I need you to sing me a song of my accomplishments that I may accomplish more ... a song of my faults.... casts my eyes into dank pools ... and I die." Deep inside I sensed an early death if I kept ignoring the youth giving "fork of life that explores the beauty of man." The middle poem was a dram "like the flight of a bird ... restless wings and reckless winds guide me for I am the king of the gypsies." Here I was shouting for the freedom needed to change lifestyle. It was time to meditate with wide open eyes. The doctor suggested a divorce but the boys still lived at home. A day a week for me alone became evident.