What if a flower wither’d without love?

A projectile stone would not wish for the fall,

A heart would’ve not blood enough, what of,

A dream’s disposition to have no call,

While meager men tick but yet cannot talk,

Drunken will struggles to live, but not run,

Exposed, why one reads inside writer’s block,

In darkness, days wait for worlds to be done,

Introduced to him she a dense torchlight,

Across the day of next, a sensation,

So we think juvenile crime worth our plight,

So made him the best of God’s creation,

     Men divorce vices but never trust’d women,

     Company’s inverse–all crises worth living