poem

around noon 1/4/13 by Bradley Dean Sommerfeld I would not make light of thy lonliness, they burden, nor of the fodder thee offers so as to be consumed among thy brothers, sisters, and neighbors that they may see your visage and countenance, but may ne’er reach out a healthy helping hand, nor lend anything, nor pry into your lonely thoughts any idea you yourself did not, in your way of thinking of things, invent. My offer is only a simple gesture of co-appreciation that acknowledges for some reason you and I both exist. With all the bustle, and of those crowds, maybe it truly means something grand and important the way thee keeps silent so much, even when talking and in the company of people who consider themselves your friend(s), how you go from the beginnings of true speech into an aggressive nature of facility without taking back. Maybe what it means is you’re an asshole.

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