Let my subtle weeping give the key
To my hidden agonies.
Of them, I care not to tell,
But a single glance can do that well.
A tear formed in the corner of an eye,
That sees sunrise and wishes to die,
Sees a smiling child, longs to be blind,
To avoid haranguing memory, ever unkind.
This darkening sphere is a bloodshot white
Then a circle of blackness,
With no colour to delight,
And deep in the blackness one can see
The soul of a man who hates the world,
I have nothing to add to this poem – but I hope you enjoy it.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic