It is time again to drop a verse for my stranger friend. In summer’s hold we continue to swelter but in the shade of a nearby forest I sit content with the breath of your breeze. Lazy today from too many excuses digested to alter the pain of whatever. But I was near even past the clouds or at least the first layer. Someone said you were faking, that you had the heart of a hypocrite and the appetite of a carnivore. They got the best of you even after the game had ended. All has not been well. Your presence is needed now more than ever to steal the show with your intensity and grace.
August 9, 1999