One simple block of light
Four clear lines on the white
The truth of it all means nothing
Because only honesty can sing
And it has no voice to speak
So there man is left weak
Whilst woman quickly pretties herself
Pale and golden as an elegant elf
Such wonders mean little though
When there is so much we want to know
Why does love not win always?
Why is sunshine shown in rays?
Why does the moon wax and wane?
Why do these things drive us insane?
Place your answers in a box
One that never mocks
On a white wall with lines
Read all else as signs
No comments:
Post a Comment