Our Poems

True bliss is living life at ease. This site is for all survivors of any type throughout all the world.

Purchase My Poembook!

Dear Survivor Poets,

I am owner of this website, "Living with TBI": a site dedicated to brain injury survivors.

At this time I am looking to increase the number of poems on my web site, and request that others send me their poems to be posted here.

If I receive three poems written by any one survivor they will be eligible to receive* a free copy of my book of poems, The Poem Book: Reflections Of A Brain Injury Survivor, which I recently published in the last few years. Read the poems submitted by survivors who have taken advantage of this offer here!

As poets you all know the strength words can give to the human spirit. It is my effort to give this power to each visitor to my site.

Thank you and I look forward to reading your poems.

Sincerely, Dan Windheim
at www.TBILife.com.

*To receive your free poem book, please be sure to include your shipping information for delivery when submitting your three poems.

After my TBI in July 1979, I went back to high school to make up some of the work I had missed. A Creative writing course was one of the classes I was given. I was excited to learn how much ability I had at expressing myself. To be specific, this expression was through poetry.

I still have the first two poems I have ever written:


Sitting on that hard wood platform.
Colorful streaks mist my brown eyes.
Red, green, fizzling through that beautiful black sky.
We sit, thinking about the day to come.
Bottles tossed to unknown friends.
Beautiful lights shining miraculously
changed rather quickly to a glare.
Who would think that this special day
would be a new beginning.


Letting my inner feelings wander,
it comes to me that my mother isn't really just a mother,
but actually "my girl".
From the hours she spent sitting over me as a protector;
to the love she gives a wanting child.
I see what a mother she really is.
To other kids who don't appreciate her,
she may just be a mother.
But to me, she is nothing less,
then my girl.

After this course, I did not write poetry for twenty years. Recently, I have begun to write again, and have been having a great time. I have decided to include poetry by other survivors as well as my own, on my web site. So please take the time to send me your creations of work. I look forward to reading them.



On this day things would turn bad.
On this day I wish I could relive.
On this day is gone , but never amiss.
On this day on the twelfth of the month.
On this day my life suddenly change.
On this day I was rendered unconscious and slept for a month only to awake angered and dismayed.
On this day my life took a sudden turn, but for the better if you look at what I had done.
On this ady never to be forgot.
On this day my life forever gone only to be reborn in my lives plot.

Poetry, by Kurt Fulton

To tell a story in a few words.
To get the meaning meant to be told.
To be as describing as can be.
So describing so the readers can see.
The words are written in a time.
But to feel the meaning may not be mine.
The story unfolds before tour eyes.
Do you feel the message do you hear the cry.
The words stop appearing before your site.
Did you get the message.
Hear th emotional fight
So the story has been told.
Did you listen or hear the cries.
Poetry Powerful words if you can feel the anguish of those that are told.
Feel the pain,anguish and maybe fear.
Then maybe you'll understand what it's like to breath my air.

MISTAKE, by Kurt Fulton

In the car-
That's were I went-
To the state that I’ll never forget-
Have some fun lifes a blast-
Until the day when you felt the pain-
It was bad in quite a dew ways-
Your head hit hard that's what they say-
Your life changed in quite a few ways-
Know it's gone in it's full live life now is what you have to do-

THOUGHTS; LOST HORIZON, March 1996 by Anne Markham

Never to see those people I cherish.
Never to hear the rush of the wind borne tides.

To watch the stars fade to light another sky.
The moon's pallid fingers touching the cold stone
That my foot might never have touched.

The sun rise that could have left my eyes for ever.
The salt tang drawn lung deep could have been no more for me.

My memories turned to dust so nearly a frail comment in the cosmic record.
The warmth of a quiet fire so nearly flickering the final passing.

The sound of music on a foreign breeze nothing more than a fallen memory.

To never feel the curve and flow of another sea.
To lay and listen to the creaking frame of steel rocking against the wind.

Watching the bright water of morning framed in reflected fire beneath the volcano that swept destruction on such a dawning.

THOUGHTS, February 1998, by Anne Markham

Where am I?
The trek in search of an enigma is bizarre and hollow
At what dead point will I finally return or find who I was?
I cannot
Pain and fear and hopelessness are my companions for ever now.
My whole body was invaded.
My innermost self torn and exposed and violated.
I never believed I would become an emotional nomad.
Trecking from place to place in a futile search for another time, another place, another life.

THOUGHTS November 1997, by Anne Markham

The golden bells of autumn fall in silent flames before the sun.
I heard the glimmer of a church bell rung on the crow strewn air.
The melody of rope hung steel.
Sonorous in the November night.
"All I want to be is back where things make sense. I cannot live life being frightened all the time" (Shawshank Redemption).
Go well

FRUSTRATION, by Molly Ann Hayden

Pervasive, Ongoing
Relentless in all situations
All Situations

Invisible Disability
Help for many
not help for few

glimpse momentarily
a life
known previously

must persist
cant forget
life is paramount!

FORGETFULNESS, by Molly Ann Hayden

Anger, haste
without regard for
others feelings

Mental ability
not reflected in
amount remembered

others can't
seem to grasp

Intelligence and
that's me!

VITALITY, by Molly Ann Hayden

To life and
experience of
the unknown

Call forth
POwers greater
than myself

TBI as a blessing
enjoy life and
time here on earth!

FLYING PAIN, by Amanda Addison

With their traveling wings
to be free
to fly
away from the troubles
a journey
a new beginning
a new outlook on beauty

With their traveling wings
across the desert sky
the shadow is lurking
fly far
to a place of change
grasp the light
break the ice
the barrier is shattered
cross the sea
a burning flame

twice the wind blows
thrice the birds call
once..all fell
flourished youth
a mist...

STRUGGLE, by Amanda Addison

she brought out the thoughts
a knife
a rope
the pills
a bang!

but who would she hurt
who would even care
what about the heavens
where would she end up
a path unknown

take the time
would she?
would you?
take the time to listen
she's struggling
for a bubble to burst
and the light to shine

she wants a mind
she has a heart
so listen...

DISABLED, by Heidi Lerner, December 1999

I must analyze the definition of this word,
For the underlying meaning is somewhat absurd.

Do you mean UN-abled?

No, not me – to that I say “Hey!”
I’ll get through that obstacle my own little way.

Please understand, that I don’t think that I’m so great,
I’ve just learned to compensate.

Are you diss-ing me,
Just because I have trouble with my memory?

We’re moving on in time, for sure,
“Handicapped” isn’t politically correct anymore.

People with a disability are not handicapped,
We’re not passive and our potential is there to be tapped.

Our challenges we want you to understand,
But in your mind, don’t put us in the “handicap” brand.

We’re in a different time,
It’s a different paradigm.

And we look at ourselves in quite a different light,
We believe we can do whatever we put in sight!

“Disabled” – If you assume my inability through this name,
ADA, IDEA - My rights and integrity I can legally claim,

Overcoming challenges makes a person strong,
Strength in mind and togetherness in heart help us to keep on keeping on.


An Absolute Desire is to be, Loved....
An Absolute Desire is to be, Wanted....
An Absolute Desire is to be, Needed....

There are many Absolute Desires in ones' lifetime....
Can anyone of these Desires be filled??
When presented in the right form, An Absolute Desire is Filled....

Providing Love from the heart,
An absolute Desire of Love is Filled....
Soothing the Desire to be Wanted, with a soul....
An Absolute Desire to be Wanted is Filled....
An Absolute Desire to be Needed is Filled,
with a Grand Feeling of Security.....
All ones' Desires become,

An Absolute Desire Filled....

KEEPER OF MY STAR, by Emily Hayzlett

I anticipate your arrival,
In hopes that you will come home;
Not once did I mislay our love,
Nor did I allow my heart to roam;

As the nights get shorter,
And the days grow long;
No matter how bad it gets,
I'll never forget our lucky song;

You are in Heaven,
Which is so near, yet so far;
Always remember true love,
You are the keeper of my star.

A DRIPPING FAUCET, by Dan Windheim

as time shrinks
i live my life

days to hours
then minutes
down to seconds

lazy split seconds
dragging by
before me
and then after

these tedious days
while empty

awkward minutes
of a worthless life
in an evil world

ASKING FOR HELP, by Samantha Fahr

Asking for help, I feel so useless....
Without Help though, who would I be....
Not the person, I strive to be....
With Help, I will become more fulfilled....

So finally I have asked for Help....
Many unsure disguises stand there....
Passing from one to the other the Help I ask for....
For with this Help, I will ba able to improve my qualities of life....

Again the Help I search for is, Useless....
Whom do I strive to for my Help....
Those whom best know the Help, may be those whom know me....

So to those whom know me best, I have strived too....
Oh good gosh, there is some Help Relief....
Asking for the Help, I need and want I have done....

My asking for Help, has finally strengthen me....
I am now the person, I have always wanted to be....
Help came from those who knew me, so well....

Amazingly my Help came from those so close, whom knew me so well.....

"WHO I AM," by Emily Hayzlett

I'm a young Lady,
Who works very hard;
I have made mistakes,
In which, I can't disregard;
I'm trying my best,
To find my own way;
It's a long process,
But it will happen, someday;
I've had a lot of happiness,
But then again, I've also been hurt;
I've been treated with kindness,
I've also been treated like dirt;
Sometimes we have to lose,
Just to see what we got;
All that was hopelessly lost,
Will I accept, I think not;
Life seems scary sometimes,
Believe me, I know;
But the more I do,
The more I continue to grow.

WHAT I NEED, Anonymous

I need glasses for the light
magnets for my pain and dwindling energy
greens for my health
a system...THAT WORX FOR ME
music to feel anew and inspire
powder (SNOW)to fly my soul
friends to comfort and reassure
ONE to love and be loved
SOMBRIA(my dog) to be
TIME to enjoy this life
SAFETY to feel

UNTITLED, by Blaine Stanziana

I wake up feeling depressed and slow,
The first thought's are which way to go.
Down to the kitchen in the drawer past the knife,
I find those pill's that I will take for life.

After I guzzel and swollow a few,
Now come's the task of who is who.
Will I be nice and have a good day,
Or will that monster come and chase people away.

I never mean to get so upset,
But how can you judge a person you've never met.
Situtation's are not all the same,
Some people feel more or maybe less pain.

Then come's the doctor's who tell you how to feel,
And I tell them, if you were in my shoe's then it would be real.
So as I exit the office as their put in their place,
I walk out the door and try my damest to fit in this Human Race.

10 FEET DEEP: FILLING A LIFE, by Dan Windheim

White with furry, clothlike skin; a known beast lurks round & within. This is a sight that escapes my lucidity, but not my snow drifting imagination.

Gusty breezes form mounds, like childhood snows on that once green hill; 10 ft. deep.

Scare crow trees, scattered; and teens rapidly aging in color, as a hill loses its innocence, all during the 1970's. Years are tinted in colors of Red and Green; but my clarity has remained intact.The Winters of my youth, now form lush springs I drink from.


Never realizing, the help we needed, was our downfall....
As we went about our daily usuals, the defaults would show themselves....
Daily our challenges would either be meant or destrayed....
We would continue to, improve upon those defaults....

Another with the same defaults, was never thought about....
Soon another would be found....
Amazingly we had a lot of the same defaults....
Where upon, developing was a much needed Support Output....

Welcome was one and all with the same Downfall of defaults....
Treasuring the Support Output, we all done, so willing....
Finally we could let our Fears be known and worked on....
All in Thanks to our Support Output....

WALLS, by Norma Cooper (1999)

And he looked at the wall
It was just a wall
White dirty yellow white
And the road home seemed
to fade in a distant haze
If that was all it would not
have been enough to dream on.
But deep inside he sees no wall
there is a spirit there
a core full of love
sweetest purity
untainted by this place where
walls now confine it
That spirit lives outside
Unbound by walls unfettered by pain
Or loneliness or grief
Linked with spirit's sisters
And the sisters said
Brother feed your spirit now
Keep your spirit strong
Let your spirit lift you
Let it soar
There will always be walls.
The body feels the wall's oppression
The body feels the pain
While the strong in spirit flies free.

by Dan Windheim

visions held within
are distortions of reality

as a beautiful mind is detected from above
disruptive voices impede
tinted glass images are shattered
and broken bodies of beauty
are left alone

these black & white shadows
cause internal lesions and voices

insightful recognitions and recollections
united, and then created
shocking curing syptoms
not causing
leave colors sheared
innocent and convulsing

as these lost souls wander within life
structures have fallen down
bodies roaming through cities
looking for safe havens
to be at peace again


Brain Injury, what does it mean....
It truly means Pain....
A life structure it may deconstruct....
For a brief time or a long time....
A life disability it may become, we somewhat have the choice....
Allow it to loom or begin anew with it....
This is the decision we have to make....

At times we may be injured more fiercely with it....
It is here that we decide, either to allow for it to feast or to move on with it....
With those who are true, they begin anew with themselves....
Only in those whom are not dedicated and true, is the Brain Injury allowed to Demolish them....

Something we must work on, The Brain Injury is....
Not allowing for it to corrupt our daily Life Activities

by Dan Windheim

a free bird runs long distance runaround
as summers are cut short
from my youth

fibers are stretched
and torn
as I strain to hold
fading memories
from golden days

an adolescent spins precariously
and thinks nothing of it
he rides a bus, then drinks a beer
and thinks nothing of it
he reads a book, or he doesn't
and he thinks nothing of it.

twenty three years
comes and goes
in a flash
slow motion made speedy
and sharp
sensitivity heightened
as dead weight dulls

a past is dead, while a future remains
and distant memories are kept forever.

LED AND LET GO, by Dan Windheim

At peace with one's self; the end of the beginning. Acceptance without.
A green eyed child under extreme delight; missing among the truth.
Misled; often misunderstood; kept under wraps, at least for now.
Our histories unravel before us; bring honesty and regret to the future.
Left for dead; given no chance; for success or reprisal.
The dead are never left; to rest in peace; let go to move on.
Always looking for answers; truths, of the unknown.
Never released; but tightly held. Missing among the beliefs.
To be forgiven for our faults; in the end, we hope. To be at peace.
I stand as one, among the others; always truthful; usually honest.
Delighted I am; to be led, and let go. I am forgiven.
Never held too tightly; precious, but rare. I am valued.
Maybe misunderstood; but let go to move on. At peace with one's self.


I create the world that I know.
The thoughts exist, and I give them form; and I am a poet.
Born each day, all day, they are continuously produced. A mound of clay.
Duplication impossible; the thought is authentic, in the mind it is.
Your size is measured by the mass of society, but not your worth.
Tools unknown. Strings of words are taught; an education, knowledge.
Not the idea; the infinite being.
Many masters, but only one master; one infinite master. Only one infinite God.
My thoughts are numerous, continuous, and never duplicated. Never identical.
I sit here, and I am in awe of my mind, and its complexity. Its infinite capacity.
I am only human; a man with ideas,bounded by limitations, and weaknesses.
Creating the world that I know; I am the author, giving it mortality.
Boundless freedom; choice, not predetermination gives me peace, gratitude.
I am the author of my life; the poet. And my tools remain unknown.

LEAVING, by Dan Windheim

I say it's time; and why not, I'm halfway out the door. This is not a dream.
I meet strangers every day of my life; lost souls who come and go, but never stay.
I met one last night; an old grey man, on his way out, or was he just on his way.
A simple man, but content. Sitting, taking in his experience, his wonder world.
Shared feelings and knowlege; unexpected wisdom. Simple words; Two worlds, but many truths. An understanding; shared experience. A bond. A moment I shall cherish like the beginning; or like the end. Or just the moment.
"Next time we meet" he said, "we should have lunch". "Until next time", I said I left our meeting with sadness, but wisdom. Knowlege and understanding. I have learned; It's not what you bring to the meeting, but what you leave with.

IS THE ADA FOR ME? by Dan Windheim

It works for many, but not me.
Anger, frustration,disillussionment, more anger
Misunderstanding? My understanding-
Assist me in attaining employment; level the playing field so to speak.
A reasonable accomodation they say; but who is they, and can I be accomodated?
A ramp, an elevator, an accessible bathroom, helpful to many;
but not me.
Disinhibition, short term memory loss, poor reasoning skills.
Burden to many; to me too.
A long 20 years; many opportunies, many interviews, many rejections.
Misundersood,cheated, misjudged,; a firestorm of emotion
Searched here, searched there, just searching. Only searching.
A void in my life; an emptiness, a nothingness (a feeling not a word)
Where do I go, what do I do? Does anyone have the answer;
is there an answer?
So I continue to move, go on with my life; talking and writing,
and waiting.

by Dan Windheim

My questions; numerous & plentiful; so many. To be energized.
Love for knowledge, information, the facts, and the like. Insatiable.
Life long lust, voracious hunger, my need for wisdom.
To feel: intelligent, capable, influential & dominant.
Not seem: weak, helpless, inadequate; especially unfit.
My journey; visibly short, but not in distance. Years are invalid.
Search within; confidence & worth; outward for assistance, not validity.
Knowledge brings satisfaction, but not value. Continuous hunger.
To be cerebral, insightful, spiritually filled, my life-long desire.
Always searching; acceptance, approval, the answers to the toughies.
Seeking happiness, joy and the wisdom I need.


I am confused
I don't know what to do
So I am writing a poem again
As an outlet,
To be able to do something.

But this is not a normal thing to do
Because, for now, I'm still abnormal
Of which I am trying very hard
To be normal again
But when, I do not know.

Of course, I'm sure that
God is always there to help
As always, so I must think positive
At least, I'm alive
And much more, recovering, without a wheel chair.

It's really hard to go back to normal
But this is life for me, now
So I have to be aware of my improvements
But the negatives are always behind
Following me all the time.

TOO QUIET TO THINK, by Dan Windheim

Writing poetry at this late hour, 1:18 AM, because it is what I do best.
At least what makes me feel better. Revealing bare bones; truths; often pains.
Day of reflection; solitude, soul searching. Ignited, refreshed, perpetual.
Feelings & thoughts; potential dangers. Racing then spinning; stagnancy.
Silence is valued; not always preferred.Kept at a distance; secured.
Too quiet to think; vacant but crowded mind, filled with old tunes.
Just a moment to stew; fleeting, always racing. An unknown end.
Silence is treasured; golden;to keep is a value. Secrets remain safe.
Time continues forward; unstoppable, freeing, revealing our lives.
Cherishing moments; each one secured. My poetry records life; time.

I AM AMAZING, by Becky Dolots

I changed into someone else
Who didn't "make it" in society
And I didn't even know!
That I had changed.
I knew I wasn't "making it".
I am amazing because
I am still whole and rightous
Nearly everyone has told me "no"
And before, they told me, "please"
Only I am amazing now, it doesn't matter.

Maybe I'll sit here all day and bask.


The skies were dark and grey, with stormy weather.
Our story began with lost dreams and hopes, and books we had read.
Brought together by a group of strangers who were looking for similar
answers, in a world that had become a unique newness to them all.
Days of work, bottled into weeks of vigor creates years of friendship.
A recipe that is not kept in the conscious, but is never forgotten.
Our travels have been great, to all areas of the globe; our paths have
crossed less frequently then wished.
Our friendship has been strained through absence, but never broken.
The fact remains; "friendsips are not made, only created"
I look to be with you again Amy.

FILL ME UP LORD, by Norma Cooper

I stand at the threshold of happiness,
looking in and the wanting, the yearning
longing for fulfillment itself becomes a fulfillment,
an all-encompassing vacuum of need and unmet hopes.
"Oh God" I cry "have I not given my caring freely,
given until there was no more to give?
Yet nothing has replenished my vault but dust.
Am I ever to be loved for who I am, unconditionally?
Is there no happiness while I remain alive?
And God replied, "come to me my child.
I will cherish you. I will give you joy.
With joy and peace I will fill you.
I love you without price.
Let no mortal's lack of clear vision
to see the wonder I created
keep you longing in the void;
let my love fill you. I gave you worth my child.
Hold your heartchambers under my stream, and quote.

ONLY A STORY, by Dan Windheim

If you want it now, you need to wait.
Disinhibition, impatient, impulsive they say.
Confidence, courage, strength I need.
Confusion meshes into existence.
To be different in a world of sameness.
Clarity becomes rare, when you live in the glass.
Life on the edge is a safe haven for the looker.
I grew up in a world that was safe and secure.
Minus the pain and fog I now know too well.
Practicality is out the window.
My travels have been long and far, and did occur.
Been there, done that, can't do it again.
Reality has come despite my denials.
My life is a book, without beginning or end.
Only a story, probably a fable.

ALWAYS WANTING, by Dan Windheim

To have what you have,is something I would like.
Filled with envy, is what I am now.
I dream, I cherishI I detest what I am not.
Living my life always looking at the unatainable.
Reaching, and straining to get what I can not have.
My dream is to be you, but with my likeness at hand.
I dig deep within the universe, to get a handful of you;
but withdraw my hand as empty as when I started.
The truth is that digging deep will not fill my desire;
I can not be you by getting what you've got.
I can only take what you've shared with me,
and add to it to make something bigger.
Something that I look upon as positive and good.
Something to make my future full of worth.
"Happy with me", has always been my goal;
a goal that has not yet been met thus far in my life.
"The answer is with'in", I have always been told.
Let my wanting and desire continue to behad.
Just please remind me, next time I seem sad.

REALITY STRIKES, by Dan Windheim

I shake, I tremble; my tremor,it is.
For so long has it been part of my life; but is not me.
Back over twenty years it started; it was a dark summer night.
I was young,16 to be exact, an innocent child,
looking to create an identity for himself;
in a world that in a long twenty years
would become a grey smog without a known end.
Seeing perfection in my face, brings discontent;
endless, a hell I have come to know all too well.
Reality strikes as a known face appears;
see the truth, "remember, it's in your face".
My grief remains, though reality brings understanding.
"I am not alone"

RAINY DAYS ARE OK, by Dan Windheim

Shiney roads are pretty for me,
yet the signs of winter have yet to appear.
Barefoot days, have been scarce, and far too few.
Winter is soon too arrive, and has already overstayed its visit.
Full trees don't give me a clue; but my desk calendar reveals the truth.
Paperclips galore; broken pencils, lost pencaps, burned out authors do exist.
Strangers pass between the raindrops; I have never seen so many.
Not today, not ever; destination unknown.
Making plans for my future is not paramount, as time stands still.
I sit in the moment; suck in the consciousness, its wet and empty, but needs to be.
Cleansing my mind, or is it the opposite. I forget.
They're here today, maybe tomorrow; but definitely today, and it's ok.

A POEM FOR THOSE OVER 35, by Anna M. Chounet

A computer was something on TV
From a science-fiction show of note.
A window was something you hated to clean
And ram was the cousin of a goat.

Meg was the name of my girlfriend
And gig was a job for the nights.
Now they all mean different things
And that really mega bytes.

An application was for employment.
A program was a TV show.
A cursor used profanity.
A keyboard was a piano.
Memory was something that you lost with age.
A CD was a bank account.

And if you had a 3 inch floppy
You hoped nobody found out.

Compress was something you did to the garbage
Not something you did to a file
And if you unzipped anything in public
You'd be in jail for a while.
'Log on' was adding wood to the fire.
Hard drive was a long trip on the road.
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived
And a backup happened to your commode.

Cut you did with a pocket knife.
Paste you did with glue.
A web was a spider's home
And a virus was the flu.

I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper
And the memory in my head.
I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash
But when it happens they wish they were dead.


Emotional outburst; a split second; a feeling of ugliness.
Embarrassment; shame; weakness; a harsh critic. Egg shells touched.
A feeling; an outsider in my own shell. Not pleasant, but understandable.
A grown man; restricted, (actually overshadowed). Uneasiness, judged.
A need; release and let go. Move ahead without the gloom; the feeling.
Letting it go , into the universe; a painstaking process. My journey.
Each day a lesson; a story to be told.Not to be sensitive; a collective shroud.
Touching gives me wisdom; instruction if needed. Growth; options.
Many seconds; filled to the brim;emotionally draining.Indelibly valued.

WHAT THEY DON'T KNOW, by Dan Windheim

Understanding is hard if you have never been there.
"I understand, even though I havn't been there", he says.
The beast is out there, and it feels like it surrounds you.
I have met him; I have seen her, they are my nieghbors.
They are as cold as night, ice I presume. They are not welcome.
Though they often hide their disdain, their colore are sure to emerge.
Step back, and gather the facts, they are at your disposal.
You might not see them, but they are there.
You ask for help, and you are given help.You don't, and your not.
I usually don't, despite I may need, they say I am stubborn; and I usually am.
First scenario: living my life, holding contempt toward my neighbors.
I ask for help, and I am given. Understanding appears.
Second scenario:living my life, knowing my nieghbors, and dealiing with it.
Do not fault them, for they might not no better; education brings knowledge.
Get out there, and show them your colors. Show them your worth.
My future may seem bleak at times, but I do have faith.
That life is good, and goodness is great.
Do not blame others, for what they don't know; teach them, and they will

Check out the Arclight Magazine article about my first book project

Dan Windheim

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