They call it bullshit, navel gazing crap

Time wasting, brain sapping, not this, not that

But to the addicts of the drug called “the beauty of the word”

The fractals of the art stir this way, redouble back, and still never lack

Even when dreaming sags into nothing at all

Who gets this and who ends  up with what?

These are the questions, at least the ones that always come back

And I don’t mean to anger, non-plus or upset

anyone much less the young, the old, and the middles ones.

The strong take from the weak, and the weak believe

They are getting back from the strong….

We all get what we really want in the end

Right or wrong. weak or strong


The men die young, or they rot into the irrelevant

Women persevere…mistresses of  time

We pay the price for our gifts and for receiving….

What is lacking can be the greatest blessing of all


The world being what it is there is no need for forgiving

For the lessons learned are often hard won.

Born on the backs of the fools and the wise ones

To engrave on the soul

There is still room for more still to come

The men die young, or they rot into the irrelevant

Women persevering…mistresses of  time



Author: Edgardo

Born in Houston, Texas and moved to Raymondvile, Texas in 1969. Family bought a radio station and helped with the family business until it was sold in 1997. Since then started an agency and mostly writes about experiences in Deep South Texas. Writers of the Rio Grande founder, editor and contributing author.


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