Attentiveness Dashed

The trail of dead skin cells was not obvious,
but each time I waved to a stranger, I fell to the ground.
The flesh was determined to shed like a snake.
It was only a custom to hide in the grass.
I likened the layer to a mask I had no fright of,
a temperament that made me feel like I was invisible.


Attentiveness dashed the good Samaritan against a rock.
Just the large ones, the large rocks.
They are helpless masses that have no use otherwise.
Nobody was able to use them to stone an adulterer.
Or crush a fiend that took no time to see things straight.
he was a twisted man with a desire for no set appliance or tact.
The phantom was lost in the debris of an endless land slide.
The call to be attentive n
ever had so much as a chance,
once the killers set table for afternoon tea.
Would you like a few dead skin cells with your hot beverage.
the steam makes your hair curl and all the world is lost for words.



You see all their attentiveness is dashed again.
The lonely have no choice but to be thankful for the effor to thers give.
We have no recourse than to feel more alone than before.
And before you feel lonely, remember.
Some gifts touch the spirit so tenderly,
they reverberate like waves of water pounding the shore.
There is tide of good will there for me I see that.
I am open like a bloom that needs help to bear fruit.
Thanks for the attentiveness.
Even if it appeared to be dashed on the rocks,
be sure to believe I was their to appreciate the deeds of a good friend.