Devious – A Poem

If you only holla
when you’re mala
I’d bet you a koala,
that known even in Guatemala,
you ain’t worth a dolla.

Or a dime
or none of my time.
Sour like a lime,
devious like slime,
without you I’ll be fine.

So be real or be gone
and I don’t mean a put-on
sincerity bought on Amazon.
Tons of years, same outcome,
end it already, baby, come on.

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Are we setting the bar too high?

Do the perfect friends even exist?

Here’s a million questions with no answers:

Everybody’s got flaws. I mean, we’re not perfect, why should we be demanding perfection? Is it better to settle for an imperfect friend than no friend? Do we think this way because we’ve become conformists, or is it realists? How do we even deal with the concept of “good” friendships? When is a friend crossing the line? (I think I know the answer to that one.) Should they be allowed in our lives once they cross the line?

Here’s what I think: find the balance. No, I really don’t know. I’m just another human being trying to find the answers to my questions, trying to make the right decisions. Going with the flow because I don’t know where to go. Life can be so heavy. A decent human being to call friend is not too much to ask.

Just a thought.

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