Curdling Milk Borderline Cheesecake
In the end come to think of it
What's the point of feeling sad
Sad just does what sad does
No point on dwelling on it
It won't go away and will still be
laying in state ready to unwelcome
you when you eventually go to bed
Clinging to your pillow stopping
you from counting sheep
Sad is a sickness fuelled by regret
And when all is said and done
and you break it down
It's as pointless as crying over
out of date curdling spilt milk
It's of little use anyway
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