Whaoh Whaohwah Waaaaoh

The times are changing, and it doesn't help that there are millions of people seeing a rock and thinking a poem, and a stained glass window stretches across everything, to break language apart at the seams, because one man's tears, are another's fury, a belly roar of laughter and a quiet smile, because it took me a while to learn, that no one is the same, and that poetry marks our soul as with a compass, to a place that only we know, and the real treasure is understanding, and trying to fill those sand clogged shoes, and perhaps we'll never understand, but see ourselves in the ashes of another, our calm compatriot poetic brother that speaks with gumdrop rhymes, and candy corn adjectives to give us a treat of his life.