Like a giant Sequoia tree, well aged and outwardly still tall and firmly anchored                                        
I proudly display, my outer senescent bark, but inside, I’m pitted and cankered

Still majestic and straight, branches spread, with fingered needles reaching for the sky                            
But at each limb joint, those cracks lay hidden; not yet visible, to the naked eye

Those blisters ravage and rage, at my inner trunk; but not, so you can clearly see                                                                                    
Hidden by the sap; like those morning rheum tears, which seep out and crust on me

I reach skyward, extend my branches to the sun; my sieve tubes there unplugged                                                                                  
But below, my veins congested, and my arteries full of sap, are fully clogged  

And yet I stand, without an outward tremble; disguising well the tremors in my roots                                  
With all my strength, I will them hold; do not cede, to the pain that in them shoots                                                        

I will perceiver; not able to bend with the wind, I stand firm still; until I break                                              
Stiffen my resolve; until my fluids coagulate, and rigor mortise does me overtake                                
BOEMS BY JA 397

People who have beauty
Usually, have all the luck
While people who are smart
Always make a buck

People of importance
Invariably, have the ****
And people with persistence
Seem to have the pluck

But, people that are lazy
We usually call a schmuck
While the rest of us
Well.....no one gives a ****
WIZDUMBs BY JA 682

A rose is a rose,
No matter where it grows.
Some saw thorns,
Beauty some chose.
Criticized by some,
Valued by loads;
People's opinions,
You can't change them by force.
Perfection is desired,
Even if it's freestyle prose!
Our lives might be cumbersome,
Let's accept the challenges they pose;
There's a bit of stardust in us all,
No matter hellish situations might come how close,
because, *a rose is a rose.