Hoarder

I’ll take peace to go

With a side of simple wisdom.

I’ll mull it over when I get the chance,

Like the kale turning yellow in my fridge.

I save everything for later,

Dreams and aspirations,

I even save my voice

For belittling my loved ones

When they ask me about

The hoard piled up high

Of wonderful things gathering dust.

– Vagabond Prophet