My open words and thoughts have exit wounds
and no good reason why they get shook.
Some say Compassion stands between all,
while others wonder where it’s all been took.
A parade of fools some have judged when there’s walking around,
yet I don’t feel it see it nor hear any foolish paraded sound.
Others say quiet please pass through exit this way,
though not me leaving I only begun thy words to say.
Valor and Friends especially when clocks lose interest keeping time,
Solace and Spirit as though a sinew from forgotten ancient rhyme.
Gathering individuals timeless laughter gratefully having fun,
emanating Light while darkness vehemently reveals absence of Sun.
I’ve “Ben” around.
(For Ben Masel)
Randall Paul Prazuch
Copyright © 2011
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