Shouldn't the stars be blamed
and the roses, and the coasts?
Why aren't the poems of great love
and tales of severe gallantry
locked in a distant vault?
Where no soul with surging youth
no child with raw ambitions
can reach or see them.
For they allow lethal hopes
give misplaced illusions.
Amuse a few passing breaths
and mock for a lifetime.
The strong incoherence between the reality and the beliefs can be unpleasant at times.