The invisible mask of confidence has been torn away
My arrogance now cries behind sweaty palms
For a part of my life has been stricken from me
By an insect of a man, no less
An alcoholic toddler unwilling to share
Whose foresight is no longer than arm’s length
He speaks with over-used words long forgotten by most
And clings to childish reasons for discomfort and cynicism
His answers to life may be found on public tabletops
And restroom stall doors
And yet, he has taken this from me
Something I once held to be precious and invulnerable
A treasure both delicate and resilient
Seemingly above all human flaws
If it can be so easily filched by perverted hands
And sweet words from empty mouths
What else can be held sacred?
Give me back my friend
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Beautiful. It took my awhile to figure out what you were talking about with the public tabletops and restroom stall doors which made it all the more better when I did. Daniel you are a true poet. Is this stolen treasure you speak of Love?
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