Bask in the emmisions of my spirit.
Let me be your source of hospitality.
Let me give you a peice of my brain,
food for thought.

See my soul, what is it like?
Relish in my words, the pretty words I write.
Don't hold my hand,
but hold my essence, honey of my being.

Don't put my picture in your wallet.
I'd rather you hold by laughter in a lockette.
Not because I have a pretty laugh,
but because it is an audible reminission of my past.

One day, my body will rot,
yet never will my thougts.
I am my spirit, not my face.
I am everbeing, a living that can't ever waste.