My friends, my inspiration.
Our endeavors, our continuation.
His smiles, her laugh.
Her attitude, his savvyness.
My equal, their reflection.
Of all in the world, I'm their selection.
My friends, until the end.
The poem is mistitled again...
Family is the proper word in my mind.
They show me that i'm valued so they're one of a kind.
The ones I love, the ones I trust.
My friends are there for the love and lust.

(paragraph of prose broken into irregular lines and mistitled "poetry")

The technoid global middlemen
became Cro-Magnon underlings
and had to relearn flint-flaking techniques
after the adverse event
which God encrypted
into the underwear
of the overlords.
The logos logged off
forever.
The etheric records
were sealed.
The angels rejoiced
when silicone valley
slid into the subduction zone
(not their fault)
The remnant of redeemed humankind
told stories around the holy fires
about the dark age of technocracy
from which they were liberated
but none of the generation
born in the millennium
believed it was true

If ever a word I would be labeled with,
Untitled would be perfect.
Feeling ever so entitled to my uninspired opinions
Can my name be considered my title
when all its ever been used for is to call out,
is that what a title is?
Have I been mistitled all my years,
or does the title not define the person?
People define you by your title either way,
judging a book by its cover,
judging a person by their title,
judging a poem by the author.