By Gabriel Foster Batman felt good, walking the grounds of his rose garden, Like a stallion with something to prove. The night before death whispered in his ear, His bat mobile narrowly missed going over the cliff From him driving a bit too fast and a bad weather condition Suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Batman played with the red rose sitting between his lips, Like a cheap cigar, thinking of her again. He had to see the pretty fortune teller again he thought. Her foresight was the only reason he was still breathing, Still eating, still farting inside his mansion. Seeing the pretty psychic again, was a priority he had to Make happen. He also vowed to make some changes in his risk-taking life, Crime fighting was a job, not his personal life after all. Whatever weight he gained from cutting down on his Physical theatrics at night, would be worth the smile Of that pretty psychic poking on his jelly belly. Batman removed the single rose from his lips and smiled At the psychic’s name ringing on his phone. Even as he Hit the answer button, he thought himself, even he is deserving of love…………potential jelly belly or not. GF Poetic Wisdom | Love on the mind of a hero, could be a coffee pot moment that leaves an interesting taste in your mouth. ~ Gabriel Foster
