the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle

words I dream
(my father tells me)

when the dream is to write and be read
when drinking the truth does not go to your head
when someone writes "you made me smile"
when you reciprocate with words that linger for a wile
when imparting wisdom her replying kiss makes you wiser
when she curses you, but you do not have the heart to likewise despise her
when you love more than you can chew, and make do with the delectable morsels you can
when every woman you greet with a lover's touch, or pine for so much—makes you a better man
when you say you can and you do, or you try only because someone says it can't be done then you my son,
you too,
shall be a writer.

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