These poems were written on park benches, and in lonely hotel rooms. They were scribbled down in frustration, and written down at leisure. They are about people who have inspired me, and about people I have never met. They are about people who have been kind to me, and about people who I do not care to see again. They are about isolation and escape, loneliness and warmth. They are about the strangeness of being human but, above all, I hope, they are about being kind.
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