Darkness came at 4. Now it comes at 5:40 and I come, rarely.
Together so long! Was it her vow to follow? Or was it his thong?
Born this April day: George who fights, the Bard who writes And then there is you.
Jubilant palm leaves, Waiting for his feet to tread over. Watch them cheer! A dying King waits for you to sing his death song, Carrying a cross. You remember this, Stuck in traffic waiting for the lights to go green.
What to do today - wallow in despair or weep? I choose sleep instead.