IN FLUX: A Gruff

There once sat a man, his arms in fold,

His hair of weeds and teeth of gold,

His eye a diamond, splintering gleams,

His other a hole, where one had been,

Seven digits, mismatched

But not one thumb...

His clothes a rag

Tied front to back

His once bronze skin a blemished black...

This old man of nothing nice,

Spoke to me once sullen, thrice

A Gruff...

He said, "...Boy this life,

Is to live,

Be not fooled, but what to give,

Of oneself, to gain a glory?

Bequeath your heart for fabled pleasures...

Stolen from your youth of life...

Days beneath a swollen sun,

Nights among the playful stars,

Working, slaving...Day and Night...

All to give unto a wife...

Friends and dogs

Both one and same...

Will give you loyalty true...

Till one day when such darkness comes...

They'll ask of you enormous sums,

But think of it not true to form or friendship gained...

Without regards of living lame,

You'll follow through both, both leg and thumb,

For fear of canine jaws untamed...

You'll surely choose o share your crumbs...

And family, such a cursed gift,

Through pestilence’s rift,

Exiled with taunt,

They'll dare not drift...

For fear of want,

In future gains and garb and care

And you the lame, say,"Fear not fear!"

And they, the priests and flock about...

Laugh and smile with righteous shouts,

Flame and liquor bought with your hand,

Engulf the heat of concession’s lamb,

You my friend, the sacrifice,

Shed garment, to shelter your family's life,

And that night

That very night...

They'll feed said garment to the light

The one you sit upon and roast...

Toast not toast, but be a host,

Of your Life of which to live...

This counsel I SHARE

For son, I fear

And bid

You'll forgive,

But I've got nothing left to give.