Dear James.

My friend, you look to me, to judge the other half of honesty,
and here I sit, all complacent, to which I am not,
But with understanding, you realize,
the person oft forgot.

A smile that half realizes
sane and stupid compremisises
for what I look for,
and yet not,
I am who I am.

I am one person
No, I am onother,
But that is me.
Can you, dear James, understand?