After a time you just feel sad,
Perpetually sad, and weary.
Nothing like fury comes to clothe the day
In fiery robes; you just feel sad,
Perpetually sad.
You drink the tune of sadness in day’s sun.
You linger over it when ****** clouds accost
The premature dusk at winter’s night. Spite
Of no returning you long to see those faces
That have made you sad. Madness should be
Like this : perpetual madness where the grey dawn
Clinks through bars you never wished to see.