I admire

the ones
like Michelangelo
who make it
to old age
despite
the struggle.

It seems
so easy
to fall off the edge
where the job
of its nature
will have
you work

that those who don't
are paradise
to me,
a safe
soft
place
like you
in
bed
forever.

Those who stop
or whose
lives
are punctured
by
silence
I avoid

and the shimmering
early promise
come
to nought
turn
against
like tribes
do albinos.