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Sign True

So, my best never my best ever friend
Got burnt all the way down to her roots
But she’s roaring back, just ask Goodwill
With a new attitude that her perfectly suits—
Don’t offer me flowers
Don’t offer me fine wine
Just be real for once
Show me a true sign
That I count as much
As the future you divine

Texted into the night and then called
Quite the fulsome love story
Ruined by a rich tortured soul
Oh, my poor Morninglory—
Don’t offer me flowers
Don’t promise hot dice
Just hear me one time
That I am worth as much
As this shiny Mercury dime

And so the night got enough old
For her to make her goodnight
So the story folded right there
My heart still wrapped up cold and tight—
Didn’t pledge her flowers
Didn’t promise her better days
Just want to be worthy
To share my humble love sign
That she’ll always exceed
Any future we’d dare to design

Another Monday

Blossoming Southern belles—
Plastic as far as you can see.
Sooner or later the truth
Makes itself plain,
More or less eventually.

Travel over the old road,
Hope against hope for happiness new,
But find you’ve returned home
Spitting at the gods—
Chagrined through and through.

Gambling for a maybe,
Hopelessly hoping we young
At heart, we’re quite hopeful.
Why climb the campanile
Seeking a bell yet unrung?

Two storms amangling,
A third fluffs in the wings.
Furbabies tied to trees;
O soft fear strangles us all.
How Stupidity wretchedly stings!

Another Monday looms,
We will all try to do our best.
Be happy and healthy,
Be safe and remain free.
In the end we will all pass this Zen test.