Too cracked up for high jokes and too serious for side notes.
Open to what I tote and yet still so quick to croak.
A deal ain’t nothing real until it’s real as what you feel,
If the tonic is what I wanted my spirit be truly stunted.
Since the gurd is just a word as long as its spoken, written, or heard,
The smoke that fans out from the flames as pins that prick to make they claim.
I guess it’s true for what I may or may not do my happiness can do it to,
To spend and not to lend and to share with those I care.
5:02 pm, April 16,2023, Sunday