Words of Advice

Words of Advice
Words flow from the mouth of a gregarious friend
towards the ears of a sagging man.
This rough river runs with intentions to save,
to uplift a sunken mass from the stony bed on which he lies.
Like any drug, there can be unintended side effects:
drowning, for one.

Inevitably, a river becomes an ocean. A spill becomes
vast, beyond vision. The beach is meant for play,
but this void does not harbor such good will. Wave
after wave crashes on the dark surface as flecks of white
foam get flung to the sides. Moment after moment, a continuous
rise and fall.

To one man's eyes, these waters are refreshing: a cool dose
of reality. From the view of another, they submerge all
surroundings in an icy stasis. It's hard to breathe underwater.
But the former would not go for a swim himself. He is content
to sit by the shore, gazing at those who drown under the
weight of his words.