Thoughts from my sick bed

Hair grows profusely on my chin,
But not so much on the top,
Up there it’s getting sort of thin,
Yet my beard will never stop,
If I turned my head upside down,
My hair’d be all the rave,
And the thinning top nearer the ground,
Means soon I wouldn’t have to shave.

The Measure of a Man

How much can a man take? That seems to be the eternal question… The answer is a lot. A man is born for the nasty, short, and brutal life that lies ahead. A man is defined by the weight on his back and how he adapts to circumstances. A man can quit, he can give up, but that is the easy way. Men seem to thrive on challenging the easy way.

I find myself at the bottom of the pit of despair. I feel abandoned. Alone. But, I’m not afraid. This despair is fueling me, it drives me forward. It makes me want to claw at life, tempt fate, tempt Faith, seek Redemption.

In the End a man will be defined, measured, by how he deals with the challenges presented to him. He will be measured by his actions… His reputation… That will be his Legacy.

Manners Please!

Naysayers and complainers,
Have thought so all along,
An in-your-face air of disgrace,
Their smug self-righteous song,
They think rudeness makes them right,
But they’re very very wrong,
To think that being disagreeable,
Is akin to being strong.

Woof

Love is not a decision.
Love is not the answer to some intricate equation.
Love is not the result at the bottom of some emotional balance sheet.
Love is more.
And I am not a puppy hanging around your door.