If reality is harsh and cruel
I was once a greater fool
Than you, freed
From the house of dead doves
I’ve been a fool for precious few
Loves, your eyes are as black
As the underside of day
But in them I see hazel
Sunsets of May
Do happy endings exist?
Or have I always been doomed
To persist with the mediocrity of generations
Repeating mistakes
Like incantations
Etching what little joy there can be
In companionship
And family?
But ever inside my ear
A whisper resounds so clear
The anxiety grips me the moment I wake
Until the pills dampen
The terror that quakes
Will there never be a house made of tree? No
Swaying in a boat at sea?
If you could rescue then
With you I’d flee, the mind
Inside you makes me believe, the black
Of your eyes; backdrop
For my dreams
The roof comes apart and the galaxy teems
Unravels my heart into ribbons and reams
And I’ll always be
Your fool it seems
