A quiet alley in a small town. Most of us have on idea what one feels like. The sense of discouragement , aimlessness after all. You can only head two ways. In or out. Maybe up and down but that leaves little room for  improvement .Mind the rats,  broken old lawn chairs and moss risen rotted out garage doors , this is home. A place most persons wouldn’t look twice at. Jewelry stores are my glamour. Babies crystal ball.  Pass by one of those late at night and you can see everything you lack, bared behind some quack alarm system as if it was  your own warped self perception.
    Its me diggin for worms in some back alley soil in between the asphalt , or coolin’ down from the perpetual heat lamp above a glass case. I wanna shine none the less. Hundreds of young girls to watch me shimmer. My folks used to tell me I’m as rare as any fine stone. A bit redundant but it gets the point across. Mothers love.

    They say you’ll find truth through life..how many lives can one person live? Hundreds. With so much truth , when and where is the lie? A person can be anything they want to be at any point throughout any day , of any year. The hardest part is proving it. Taking hold of where you are now , with each given, gifted moment. Shaking your thoughts by the throat.. each of them birthed but  sterile before they bloom. Up and down. Over and over again. The bedside  encouragement  of a woman. She knows me. She’s sick. I understand.