Brisket Friend

You’re barked and blackened,

charred at the rim,

a crust that says keep back,

like smoke guarding flame.

But I know the truth—

beneath that rugged hide

lies a tenderness, slow-braised

by years of fire and time.

Your words may sear,

sharp as hickory bite,

yet your laughter lingers

like sweet molasses heat.

You’re tough only in show,

a cut earned by struggle,

but slice through the surface

and the heart is soft,

marbled with kindness,

juices running deep.

Friend, you are brisket:

rough to the touch,

tender to the soul,

a feast best shared

with patient love.