Oh God, why doth mine eye so often cry?
Must men be constructed of steel and bone?
What sounds forth from my lips is mostly sigh
Are men of conscience forsaken alone?
Each day doth elicit rivers of tears
I swoon to dark clouds… their passing embrace
Fibers of being subject to new fears
Tributary etchings lining my face
Do sunshine and rainbows live for other men?
Is frolic saved for the apathetic?
Must each day start with entreaties of when?
Shall I finish life blue…apoplectic?
Weary of teary…I weep when asleep
Can’t dewdrops of joy…into my life seep?
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