Think hard and fast.
You need to promise.
Weigh your high end plans
That May end up doped,
Your Gucci clusters,
Your Versace threads,
Your flights to nowhere.
Promises are made
To be –
Stop!
“Don’t think before you leap.”
That’s love’s dictat.
Sense cautions you to live
For a better tomorrow
And promises have risky ends
And like all wise boys know
Mutual funds are subject
To market risks.
It’s the sign of our times.
A man’s word is as good
As forked lightning in the sky.
It lights up lives
And it can probably extinguish one.
And we all try
To photograph the moment
Only some succeed.
Those with excellent technology.
And a penchant
For retaining vows.
But is it the sign of our times
That lightning is a rare thing
A quick thing
That burns, illuminates
And is gone?
Captured somewhere in print.
And broken bodies.
Or is it true of promises
Of just your kind.
I took his hand, while drifting on the shore,
He mistook the shallows for the ocean.
His youth found the beauty in all the lore,
Caressing the anchor, devoid of motion.
My captain stood against a want and need,
To protect him from what must lay ahead:
Shattered lessons of betrayal and greed,
Of weighed down dreams, upon an ocean bed.
What he does not know now need not be known…
But when landlocked safety is rejected,
I‘d have to take what I myself have grown,
And sail to the deep and the dejected.
When waters roar and his eyes froth with fear,
I wish enough remains to pull him near.
Hearts Still Care 
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