Ave Atque Vale

I wish I would have learned good buy before fare well.

I would have been wealthier by now.

And now that I’ve paid my fair in life,

I’ve learned that the fairest wheel of them all is the one never spun.

Unless you’re Rumpelstiltskin.

Because in that case, you’re allowed to draw the short straw and win.

It’s just the way the camels back breaks.

It’s funny how caution is the same color as brakes.

When green is meant for growth and red is akin to dead.

How funny that yellow in a plant is on death row and to most drivers it means go.

I suppose thats why I take my Reservations and throw them to the wind.

Maybe then I could finally paint with all of the colors.

So I poke and I haunt your dreams instead.

I am the alarm clock you always pushed down.

Hoping you never had to wake.

Call me the mistress, call me made, make me clean the house while you get paid.

I’ve spent so long in the dessert- in the sand.

I guess that’s why you call me a Which.

You’re too illiterate to tell who is who.

But I guess that Onomatopoeia will never register with someone who cannot tell the difference between an owl and a crow.

It will never register with someone who only knows how to howl and to bow.

And by bowel I do mean shit.

Which is what I think of your wit.

I mean with 26 letters in the alphabet you could have at least bought a vowel.

A E I O U nothing.

Because I’m finally turning into something.

Hello.

A good-bye is mellow.

But a Hail…

That’s something worth shivering for.

It’s more old fashioned.

It’s more like passion.

Trying to fall like the snow when you absolutely know,

That you’re too wet and too heavy for gravity to reverse the tragedy of falling in love.