Best Man

Ring, ring goes my telephone, I move to the front door of the house I rent to own I am moving slow, stoned, alone, I stroll, miserable!!! The call came a few hours before from a dear friend of mine forewarning me of the grime, dirty shards ripping, crippling my inner core. I saw them together at the grocery store. Discombobulated, my shirt smells of pine, weighted, my heart begins to whine, My best man, my girl. A romance so hard to ignore. Jared Pickett 5/6/2010 Asavvy1