The Good Life/We Can all Relate to Empathy

My plate says full, my glass says Tiffany.

Have a cigar.

I do.

Buy a car only to die in it.

I didn’t know money tasted so vain.

I didn’t know lonely drove insane to inane.

Debt was only delightful when it was gone.

Back to boredom.

Back: broken and bent; chiropractorless, eyes white and spent-

Enjoying years of viewing your envy.

Jealous nature; childlike.

Finally back to the basics again.

Then again (ha, ha).

Finally avoiding patience, because we all have our days.

Wait.   (just a second)

Burying the dead and famous in the basement.

Only one thing:  I miss my family.

We never planned to be.

Asking for nothing but your very best, and everything, and all the rest.

Mediocre is nicely dressed and addressed.

Yes?

Changing lifestyles while overthrowing kings.

Living long, minute by minute, second by second, longevity is second nature.

Aphasia-and you think:  what’s the wager?

Again, what’s the wager?  (must of forgot)

Longevity of irritation and submission.

Long live this thing.

Kin to foresee.

King longing to be free.

The leaves cling to the trees so desperately, depressingly, in the fall, to be replaced by new buds in the spring.

Flings happen.

We see how this works:  This fame thing.

Fertile ground beneath feet, tread softly on roots of catalyst or cataclysm.

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