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My soul feels too short for love –
but there’s a tall glass of it, I’m hoping
fills the thirst of my heart’s empty cup
But if there’s a map to someone’s thoughts
…here I am, navigating!

While the hills of their eyes are always
these dreams like mountaintops
Though rising to your peak is so scary –
where the bottom always looks you up,
And I know we’re all still searching for those
pieces of ourselves.

Even when sometimes there’s a mix of
doubt in my cup – it’s so hard to doubt the
fact that you sometimes really love to doubt
yourself… most days I have to empty myself,
to refill up on worth in this cup.
refilling the shoes
of truly great men
is a task not
within lesser men
the shoes too large
for them to comprehend
a depth and breadth
so extraordinary of rend

these shoes are super
in their magnitude
of which a menial foot
could never altitude
to think other wise
shows no aptitude
fittings of this calibre
require plenitude

trying them on
for size why do that?
a cobbler would laugh
off his Dorset hat
knowing full well
there's a gauging bat
where men of capacity
are expansive of tat

shoe filling takes
much adroitness
just ask they who
possess its smartness
tis a gravitas of such
encompassing vastness
as quoted by the
sagacious George Furness

— The End —