Frost coats the grass this day
as the Sun slowly makes it's way
to brighten up this World of ours
full of people with fancy cars.

Marriage, is not a Contact Sport.

Mock bravado,
is what you do.
Not wearing a mask,
makes a fool out of you.
The act,
no mask for thee,
sets a poor example,
that your followers see.
A pox on you,
you childish man,
with your feet of clay
and head of sand.

In the family room
and I see,
a Crow on the fence,
looking back at me.
In his beak, like a man,
an empty Bud Light beer can.
Did he have a thirst?
I can't say,
for he dropped the can
and flew away.