The Great Journey of the Den of Brotherhood

There comes a time.

When there is a plan to go somewhere. And you're really not to sure what that plan is exactly.

You're kinda familiar with the name of the city...But overall you have no idea what's going on.

Or when you'll get back...or what on earth you're going to do. (Not to mention eat)

But you know you're best friends are going to be there.

And that's when you say.

"Ok. I'll go."

Even though you're tired. Even though you're a tad bit depressed. Even though you'd rather sleep all day and eat ice cream and then sleep again.

You go.

Why?

Because. That's what friends are for.

What I'm saying is...

I love my friends. I'm not even embarrassed to say that they tickle me pink...Sometimes quite literally.

It's like they know just the right time to whisk me away to wherever.

Even though I'm putting up all those flags and hints. I'm still packed and ready to go. Why? Because.


Plus. I wrote a poem.
It's no Frost. But I'll take it.

Rise and ?
by Brock Powell

I look outside my window,
I'll tell you what I see
A piece of the oblivion.
staring back at me.
And as I stare,
I've become like stone.
Unable to move.
Unable to moan.
But as I long to turn away,
I can see the light of day.
The sun is here,
the black is gone.
And it stays that way.
All day long.