That was it.
Everything he said made sense to me.
Not the content of the presentation,
The nature of the delivery.
Outside of jealousies,
Around common practices,
Ground breaking, no less,
A salesman beyond confidence.
It wasn’t about town and country,
The pain dwelling behind,
Every advertisement he lost,
A new nail by which to abide.
Narrow eyes kept harrowing focus,
On how to fill a prescription,
When unwell gloomy or porous,
Success didn’t depend on his diction.
Not one of a hundred colors in a box,
Earnestness defeated by his talent,
Industrious in solitude,
And sounding sweeter to every client.
His Medication was to lead,
Not a symptom of illness,
Some Casanova at the seams,
Blessings disguised as personal madness.
Every listening ear,
No matter what they came with,
Had their doubts realigned, daring him,
Until his needs were vanquished.