Written when the author was in his late teens and early twenties, the poems, stories and assorted mad ramblings you will find here were scribbled on scraps of paper and bar napkins in the wee hours of morning. God, existence, sex and identity dominate the desperate writings of a young man struggling to make sense of the world.What would I say if I could speak to them now? Perhaps these two poems , which are straight from my heart.I wish I had had the awareness of what they did for me when they were still here, but in my faith I believe they can see what I've now written.Please, feel free to ponder these free poems, and imagine what you would say to the people who raised you up. Enjoy, and let me know if you liked them.

Little Lenny Helzerman doesn’t expect anything more from one day than he does any other day and he doesn’t give anything more to one day than he does any other day. It is all the same. And this suits him just fine.Most days start off as normal days. At least that’s what little Lenny Helzerman thinks. He thinks that there aren’t any good or bad days—it’s just the stuff that happens during the day that makes it good or bad or memorable or forgettable. Little Lenny Helzerman doesn’t expect anything more from one day than he does any other day and he doesn’t give anything more to one day than he does any other day. It is all the same. And this suits him just fine.