Are you incapable of loving me?

As a cohort, comrade, or family.

You chopped me up like a cherry tree.

Then sent down your verdict, GUILTY IS HE!

You could certainly love me just like a friend.

We might disagree. But we’re cool in the end.

You could even love me just like a brother.

We make mistakes, but we forgive one another.

Confusion now fights with intuition.

An upper-cut. A jab. A split decision.

Our minds lay it out from a subconscious place.

As possibilities explode, they fall from grace.

The wrinkles increase as time takes a shot.

A few drinks a day make you feel like a sot.

But wisdom it seems can supply such relief.

For infinite days where years are your thief.

I’ll remind you again that there’s nothing to do.

I’m gonna be me, so please be you.

Maybe some day, this will all make sense.

As your perspectives shift like money well spent.