The Words Rhyme But Life Makes No Sense
He’s puzzled again to the how’s and when’s; why people get relentless;
Is this but charades, in the darkness of shade; and that’s why it seems so senseless.
It’s like the jockeys on lawns; that a dog will go on;
And personally to him, its plain once again; that seems its only purpose.
He’s came and he’s went; when He left some were bent;
To some he’s a jerk, but of what to his work; will there be no comments
It’s a hopeless position; an undo condition;
All reasons to build those fences.
These words that we write often thought of at night; is it just a dating game?
When does it end; can you tell him my friends;
And how does this bare to all as poets?
Some words that he reads; can touch him indeed; but is he not to show it?
Life Makes No Sense
It’s hard to believe the taste that it leaves; like soup that’s soured by grief;
Actually he knows; and it’s always showed; it’s life with its comic relief;
When people have needs; their expectant indeed; is it all about that I;
They want it now, don’t fail them somehow; or they’ll wish that you might die.
He’s often reached out, in spite of his doubts; even beyond himself;
Isn’t that it, if not we should quit; keep our writings on the shelf;
When you’re looking at me, is it pretty you see (they ask); and it’s hardly even new
It’s not about he; it’s the words don’t you see; it isn’t even you;
Forgive the intrusion, but its time for conclusion; and now to a defense;
When you see a disguise; there might be surprise; that just could be intense;
Inside what is hidden; could be pleasures forbidden; but to open takes some time?
Life seems a shame but it’s nobody’s blame; but those poems still spark his mind
Copyright © Leonard Taormina | Year Posted 2008
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