Love Catcher

The young man crawls into the street From his little bedroom built with dreams Hurrying up and down the pavements He eyes thin-lipped loves in cool yellow He tries to grab one or couples of them But they are as slippery as fish of ponds He again spreads snares of ropes and wires Not one enters the trap made with care ‘I will use the best method”, he whispers Young man opens his bag and scatters money Yellow pictures rushes and picks all wealth Yet his fingers catch none of the lovely loves Weary and disappointed love catcher weeps “My money, my energy lost are all of them” He gets a stick and canes the yellow girls None he beat with sticks or cut with sword Love catcher sat down on bridge point crying; "My soul, my soul, why did you deceive me?" These yellow girls are nightmare ghosts!