One for the weepy

*What are lies but truths panic stricken!
Terrified to calm down: admit themselves freely…

*Whose final sensitivity for the world
is not a sentimental song for humanity
which, upon hearing, hold hands
and say with a sincerity
as incomprehensible as Christianity
We always knew each other…

(while someone considerately passes
around a large box of tissues)

*Poets are the cowards with Words…
And finally nothing has been said…
Only centuries of grave yards
stretching for miles…

*Melancholy, such tear filled face,
red raw salt with tears,
pink and human, shy in sorrow
and woe betide so hackneyed
are arrows hearts lives
punctured pierced
sadness- a tissue paper
hahahahaahahahahahahahahahaha!

Desparately true.

Fleshy tissues.
Oh how we are passed around.

They’ve written so much about war and love.
They’re probably single, and not soldiers, too.

How else can emotion be drained out of the soul?
One must penetrate, and violate the body,
In order to witness the beautiful wraithing of the soul.
And that is why entertainment is so violent…
Entertainment is the hungry game of the soulless.