Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Mushy Prick

I see, they have all fallen in my haven..
Clutching at one heart when they silently depart,
They steal from themselves one mushy prick-
Who scrapes through their passions and turns them alert.

They sprawl on the same floor and fret on one soil..
For a thud of raindrop is nothing but one turmoil.
When pesky pests throng into one hole and mend it,
They think they're on to one humble hamlet.

They peer outside and snarl at the gray,
And suddenly the sky seems to sway,
The old sage Sun hides himself away,
And mushy cloud-lets,-
Can they turn so fey?

The sullen cloud-lets weep and silently wait-
To see if their poor cousins join them and play.
But one thud of tear dispels one fear,
And pesky insects,-
Can they hold their ticker when they choose to slay?

Questions and answers do readily alter,
When scenes so terribly change and hopes falter,
The search ends when a prick needs to claim,-

"I could not escape from penning this play."