They stand with a syringe full of rainbows
They seek to oust the grey clouds that host my day
They control the cobwebs that encase the vintage wine
They allow controlled measures to shower my despair
They envelope their help and address to my need
They build scaffolding of strength around my tired legs
They are all individuals but unite in one cause
They see value in that cause, one I seldom see
They have access to words and distribute them with care
They respond to the volume of my quiet desperation
They are priceless, unique and rare
They are true currency in a bankrupt world
Who are they?
They are my friends
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