Clapping your majestic hands—
Dum, dum…DUM DUM (the sound getting heavier)
Piercing through my slumbering mind and ears
How dreadful it is to drag your lost legs towards the horizon of madness?
What infertile trajectory can it perceive?
What insanity will it expose?
Throttling the mind’s twisted thoughts
Like you’d do to an innocent animal
But the question here is not about
Foolish man! That’s all I hear—
And the sheep in the fox’s skin yells at me—
I AM STILL YOUR CHILDHOOD FRIEND—
I LOOKED AT HIM AND SHOUTED BACK ‘F*** OFF WANKER’-
Excuse my insolence, but you’d understand that poets are no real heroes
But you’d understand that poets are no real heroes or shiny stars
Who would sweep your feet away, to the shore of pleasure and pleasure and pleasure
Why would you write such nonsense?
This madness needs to stop. Do you intent to scream in a similar manner?
After the hellish immortality and mortality of pleasure and pain and pleasure and pain
Isn’t this supposed to be Spring?
Making it spill its bloody blood
Ah! Here comes the foolish man
From above and side-by-side
What mockery do you spew at me?
Now try to unwrap what’s not yours
Sometimes things can go easy
If you compete with yourself
I have no intention to send my unborn children’s pictures
And dance to the tunes of DUM DUM DUM
(the sound getting heavier)
By this bloody antibiotics.