juicy,

the truth is i’m weak diluted,
a student of a beautiful movement.
The devils advocate counting my blessings on a abacus.
You can count on me,
when things aren’t adding up.

With the midas touch,
everything I touched turns to closed.
A salesman in his heyday,
a maverick i’m told.
You can lean on me,
in rough times when the terrain is callous,
bold and strong inclined slant slides like font akin italics.

A jewel crest chalice and palace.
Redundant when alone and thirsty.
Touching thirty,
but goals and dreams still out of reach,
a whisper of wind still capable of causing a whirlwind.
You can use me as an example,
when you burn the candle at both ends,
blame me if it’s ample to repent you of those sins.

That tin man courage,
in abundance to your fears.
Even after all these years,
I question the validity of your tears.
But you can call on me,
when all you reach is the bleak reality of the answering tone,
To pick you up once again from the other side of the phone.


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Please leave a message,
because nobodies home.