Harry

I'm high on everything, the touch of a stranger,  
The music plays as I ponder my next move,  
Days blur into nights, like a fleeting danger,  
He's Jewish, so Christmas he doesn't do.  
  
Each night a light show, the rhythm never stops,  
A tax lawyer with an endless supply,  
I watch, entranced, as his carelessness drops,  
A man who’d rather soar than ask why.  
  
How can he outdo me, with no sleep for days?  
His pupils wide, driving fast, unafraid,  
I feel the rush as insanity sways,  
A dance with madness, no price to be paid.  
  
Who knew I'd find a soul so bold,  
Living each day like it might be his last,  
The scariest thing is not the story told—  
But a man who fears not the future, nor past.  

NP