# data[].attributes.body
The agony of driving down a country road lit by a stale

# data[].attributes.body
The mom was as real as my fist.

# data[].attributes.body
The theme is to never give up on your dreams.

# data[].attributes.headline
The poet who killed the moon pleads guilty with an explanation.

# data[].attributes.subject
The poet who killed the moon pleads guilty with an explanation.

# data[].attributes.body
When i was a boy
the moon was real as my fist.
later like everyone else
to advance my career
and when that failed, to ignore it but, it would not let me be.
Think of the torture i endured
staring up at the same tried night and night praying for clouds the agony of driving down a country road lit by a stale or knowing tat the tides are ruled by a cliche.