Precious to me is he who's friendship is geater in value than any metal.
He who suffers the pangs of loneliness,
self-mutilation of failure,
stings of two unrequited loves,
labido's growling stomach,
and -at times- as life's personal toilet.
Even though my precious suffers so: he lives!
toiling to survive,
and driven to succeed.
His humor causing many feminine hearts to laugh.
Those same hearts determine how he acts, dresses and cares for himself.
His impeded tongue is double edged.
Familiar ears understand him,
new ears only hear him;
both choose whether or not to listen.
I hear, inderstand and act upon what he says.
For I too suffer from the same pain.
Life tends to shit upon everyone.
Precious to me is he who's friendship brightens our darkened world.
My precious, belov'ed Silver.