theirs are enigmatic
full of false hope and relief
they hang to a jiffy's joy and ease
still awake in the wee hours of the morning
hoping their lunatic thurst would be slaked
too many loves to nibble indecency
some are fortunate to have found true love
some are what we call nocturnal creatures
of the night--who loves to make other's
mind tumble at night
go on with your filth, go on like that
continue to be a nocturnal as there's
a cucumber to cover your swearing eyebugs