I hear the sad procession slowly wailing
Mourning jazz lightens the steamed heavy air
How queer for them to dance that way
Thunder roars on their own parade
Acting somber tears fueled by  bourbon
on a worn out and too well known street
It's beauty sadness and life ending this somber
Way, but alas the 'Brella is show, no rain today

never date a poet because they’ll
expose your lies with the stroke
of a pen and leave you to bleed out
your sorrows.