Nunchaku

I am a tactful poet: She never knew the words, So I meandered into the night And the night was dazed, too. I am a tactful poet: She never knew the words, So I composed until the verses Trickled over southern hills And my heart was mourning, too. I am a tactful poet: She never knew the words, So with my once blithe soul shapeless like a human without bones, I sauntered into the dawn To find a new, vanilla love.