Wheat

It’s facile to turn your back on the turmoil to walk away from the disarray forego the risks of reaching out into the morass to hands that could be holding deadly daggers Separating the wheat from the chaff can be a challenge differentiating the stalkers and gawkers from the sincere merely searching for a kindred soul with whom they feel safe sharing what is dredged up from deep within Paralyzing poison of the past that must be processed to put to rest their pain Dreams that drive them to go on for one more day and the next after that when they’ve known nothing but darkness thick and viscous that threatens to drown them in its depths The hopes they desperately hold onto as they shiver in an icy sea of melancholy This small screen my only window to witness this world in all its ugliness, grandeur and glory My only means of sharing my story My wallet empty and my prospects few my words all I have to offer you