Invisibility

A friend wrote this for me once, he was sorta depressed and wanted me to figure out what it means and what life is meant for him.

love is my eternel hate,
love doesn't live in my conscience,
time only makes love lengthen for a taste of it,
the liquid wine that slathers down the side of your cheek,
wine that only one can taste and for none other to enjoy

but there are those that woo only to the ungreatful,
nice to the ungreatful,
love to the ungreatful,
time is against them to touch the wine or touch the bottle,
life is against them as well,
to let them leave the last impression of them with the world,
as they pass on

the ungreatful like me,
do are best to try and satasfy with what we have,
but what is it worth when the wine becomes to expensive,
and you want it at all costs to be happy,
would you turn down a friend,
or love them,
turn down a partner,
or love them,
respect is how wine is made,
and few know and feel the texture


- by saddness and humility