I decided to roll my last concept of brotherhood,
up with whatever is left of compassion,
into a sack.
I will carry it with me in remembrance.
My heart, once full,
will drink with my soul,
which flew to other dimensions,
in it's prime,

The not-so-cordial invitation
to grow old and bitter,
arrived at my door
without warning,
a successful first delivery.

There is good in the world
but not at the hands of man,
the beauty, the good,
lies in nests
high off the ground,
and when on the ground
it is quickly destroyed.
rubbed into pavement,
washed into the river,
eaten by fish,
who die from pollution,
if we don't eat them first.