We Have Not Met Poem by D.W. Good

We have not met, not formally. We have not touched our hands together or said nice things to the other. In fact, in some cases, being human is all that we have shared.
If there is time to spare let me so dare to share with you words true
Imagine yourself as the thief and I the joker AND steal away the words which fall out unbroken yet bound to be broken as their form will not endure the impact or the scorn,
Comedy when set against the backdropp of grave reality, even when most sincerely spoken.
See you and I are fading even now and the hour, the hour is as late as fate shall allow
But what is real when pain or joy are spiking in the heart, winning over all our rationality
Do we not carry on and make the same mistakes knowing that time is precious?
Yes, precious, precarious, predictable and prudent to the utmost is time and with this I jest
While you, you may take away from here a piece, a shard of my allotted time, a stipend from on high, given me by the divine, so that I may dictate without eyes (blind) for you what I have witnessed thus far,
So that you may laugh, in agreement or otherwise, until the end of time.