If only you had understood
That sometimes evil looks like good
Then maybe I could say today
It’s good to see you look so gay.
But, alas, you did not heed
The warnings in their every deed
So now I’m forced to watch you weep
And hold you close as you go to sleep.
So much poetry is about the author’s love, or the object of the author’s love. I think I will write more about this though – the loves of the author’s friends. It says something I find less selfish.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic