and it is rising above me higher this year that year fuck all of the years they hurt so much and it is rising above me higher memories that cannot be forgotten or broken or swept away friends upon us now grand 2002 new opportunities room to fix mistakes room to grow and still room to trace your personal imprint upon humanity and it is rising above me fuck it it hurts all of this stress this pain relieved and I am new for it is 2002... this poem really sucks by J.W. Farmer 1-2-2002 copyright