Sometimes,
all that one needs is a friendly face
that they haven't seen in a while
to remind them of
how much there is
to value in life.

My world is not of the written word
It cannot be numbered
held captive on a so called page

My world is liquid
as sea , rain , snow or ice
It can be hot , cold , or entice

My world is cloudy
It thunders after it flashes light
My world is wrong , my world is right

There are no words that bind my life
I won't be delegated
to exist in the black on white

I will not be staved
by the limited sways
of the written words upon the page

grilled stamina spiced with arrogance
marinated egos in bitter gall source
a touch of pickled common pride
a suggestion of mashed personality
served generously with indifference
on a platter of wonderful ignominy
going like hot cakes in these sad days
of lies emblazoned against night skies
hurry my man while stocks last
and before the merchants of doom
begin their desperate auctions of ethics
done with cynical glee and callousness
held together by a spread of mediocrity