PAINTERS, POETS, AND CRONIES

It's 1am.

On a warm winter night that feels like autumn
And I'm not sleeping, but rather
struggling to find precision of the heart .. of the mind!
What is right? What is good? For tonight it's not so cut and dry
There  in the large gray area (between black and white)
is what I really want! Is what I truly desire.

And so I struggle. 
Struggle to find the justice within these twisted circumstances
struggle to find the lesson in this that I must learn
Yes our friend, the crony, was indeed my former lover
So you see for me to pursue you would only create 
tension and decay
But to ignore this... attraction
feels as if I am missing out on something...
something monumental -- something mammoth! 
dare I say destined?
No. I can't.

Christ! It's just so often, that I meet people for the masses
That follows the trends of music and fashion
Opposed to following their heart and passions
They are like asses, following the herds, and thoughts de jour

And so rare do I meet a person who has the courage
who tries to be somebody different
who dares to be themselves (you!)
Who is aware that blending in, isn't always the solution nor salvation
Who shares the need, like me, to express themselves 
And without shame.
And with art

And so came this attraction
This light soul connection
That landed (PLOP!) into my life and lap
And well, that brings you up to date

It's now 2am.

On a warm winter night that feels like autumn
Argh, and I can't sleep, although I want to...
What is right? What is good? 
Where is the precision that I once knew?
You are what I want! You are what I desire 
But perhaps silence is best...