Even though I can usually
Brandish words around
Like a real pair of diasho
In the hands of a master
I find it hard to say
One solitary word
G-
Even though
I, for one
Know how small this world
Really is
And that Chance,
Being the jokester that he is
Will arrange for us to meet again
In some unusual circumstance
This is still Herculean to me
Goo-
Despite the fact
That I know
I shall carry my memory of you
Through all my days to come
Just as you will carry
Bits of us with you
As if in a soul-purse
This is still
Next to impossible
Goodb-
I know that since
The world as we know it
Is an illusion
And we are all
At the same place
Outside of time
A part of the same energy
That is creation
So that even millions of miles
Become meaningless
We are all together
And will remain that way
I still hate this word
With the type of passion
I usually reserve for...
Myself...
Goodbye
I know that all manner
Of beings of light
Shall watch over you
~Matt Magus-------------------------------------
This is written for the Wayward Poet, Monkey, who is leaving us today to move to Sacramento....
