Those pert and pretty petty thieves

Who laugh and dwell, no thrive on others grief ...

these souls are lost.

These men succumb to selfish needs

to feed and breed on others woe.

They talk, they think, they dream petty little thoughts!

Oh to need, to feel, to touch someone's heart,

these are things worth speaking of.

To find a soul, a pure soul, with a passionate heart,

ahhhh, to love without question or care.

To feel the passion of every moment without shame guilt, or worry.

Or taste the sweetness of a single kiss ....

these things make one immortal,

and immortality is bliss!

Though this dream of a single nights love

may never come to some,

men of worth (oft as not) have more than one.

And through the nightmare of it all,

men of worth almost never crawl for the strongest trees grow very tall,

and almost never, ever fall.

Men of worth dream mighty dreams, think thoughtful thoughts

have grand grand schemes.

They love as though it meant a lot to love, to care, to be with one,

AS ONE.

They can't see beyond their wildest dreams

for men of worth dream mightily

and hold on to each moment like it were eternity

and always are content to be

nothing more than what they be,

for what they see is what they be,

and men of worth see delightfully.

They touch the stars and never cease to wonder at the infinity

of each and every little light that shines and twinkles every night,

and tends to make one's spirit bright if one just contemplates it right.

But, men like these are few I fear,

at least that's what I see and hear.

But, who am I to question this

since I alone have thought of it?

What right have I to guess to wonder

when I alone have made the blunder

of seeing more than I should see,

and being more than I should be.