It was the worst of times and it was the worst of times. Everyone was going nowhere and everyone was trying to jump on the bandwagon ... or so it might appear to those who have borne witness to a world that promises so little and delivers even less. The weight of history and the burden of expectation somehow conspire to ensure that youth is always wasted on the young. Cursing the darkness while conjuring up new, ever more defiant ways of fighting fire with fire and yet, perplexing and all as it may have been, it cannot be said to have been without some sense of purpose. For what else is one to do when no other obvious option presents itself? Those who may be inclined to pass judgement should recognise that the passage of time is the only real arbiter, and it has since moved on. Anger is a potent force, a powerful weapon but ultimately self-destructive. Those who wield it, find out one way or another, the kind of force it can unleash. If it must be directed any given quarter, then may your aim be true, your judgement be sound and fortune guide its path. Also, let it be discarded and safely disposed of once it has fulfilled its purpose. A collection of poems dealing with subject matter that is wide ranging, while never straying too far from where the human heart should be gravitating towards.