Paradox

Its almost vexing, Trying to curse oneself and make it official. Never had been a day, When a bird didnt lose a feather, The dust in the air, took a vacation The odd newspaper boy woke up late, An old lady thought about grandchildren, Even though she didnt have any... The harp of the human heart Is made up of infinite strings, That is played by the tentacles Originating from The robust, goblin like, Gooey thing called brain. Sometimes its hard to perceive: Beauty Barbados-ing, such appalling art Of the inside . Is that all? Skin Flesh Bones. Is that all? Life wears sunglasses And 'The Devil Wears Prada'..! From sunshine, Till the poisoned neon: Death of a stranger, And the death of a loved one, Is there a difference? Or there is none, After one's own.