The song in my poem
is pure gold
My poem
overflows with cuddly music
that's a comfort when I'm forsaken
and is re-assuring when days are bad
The song in my poem is for all seasons
devastating when I'm in ruins
fortifying when I march to my demise
and a prompt for the compulsive actions
of the fools of history
The song in my poem
can lead you to perdition and oblivion
or it can lead you to ecstacy and contrived joy
or the sweet freedom of being gone forever
I am alive to all the posibilities on life's menu
and I'm the gourmet that chefs rustle up the magic for