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In lack of fantasies and fighting sheer madness
In lack of fantasies and fighting sheer madness
We, poets, like to write about love and sadness
Our eyes so wettable with tears
Our hearts so tunable to fears
We grab our pens and shut our ears
We cry of pure love (with no Pap smears)
About our girlfriends, which were caught while cheating
(Oh those betraying snakes with lying words, which are so witting ...)
And our feelings - they are hurt and bleed with sorrow
We write that life has ended, and will be no tomorrow
We write that faith in love is lost, and trust nowhere to be borrowed
We write and lines of mellow poetry gets crunched and crunched and crunched ...
But then we go hungry, the flood of sadness stops, and, cheerfully, we do break for lunch.
