just in space..
you are the master of yourself
learning…
I the master still yearning....

after the age of seventy
one is on the footsteps of senility
and someone at seventeen on the heights of juvenility
but all is relative…

pardon me some poetry is extinct,
yet it doesn't stink

a few current ones smell foul
some bad mouth
many spoil
yet the rife mind soils
the visions of those who appreciate
and don't think random

and so friend
Ian and Loved
are two such examples,
one in the clouds
the other in the woods

which one is where
find out if you could
all is relative
he, me and you