This Silly Thing Called Love
Craze comes out of barrel of joy,
Joy, what makes you behave coy,
Coyness, a thing that would get a toy
From the soul, hands of a smart lil' boy
That his head bobs in saving his mother,
Mother, the filial original not really similar
Similar? To the father, rasp voice that quiver
From the garden of marital rupture. It'ld linger
Over the elms of gut, ebbing with the tide
Of bliss ended. Never should beings all hide
The love, warmth of family. Filial code to side
A broken china, a shattered shuttle that'ld bide
Brittle bliss. Come in the evenings and laugh
At the debris of the drum, a rumble of cough
Upon anodyne ruble of ruin. Feed from trough
O! Love if you aren't life. Then live quickly, rough.
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