I tried to conjugate it but it kept a solemn laughter.
The faux sweetness of it,
The hidden disease it ought to have been.
It laughed until its throat became raw,
And my ego, exiguous,
Down-trodden.
I cried to provide it and I that balance,
And with my eyes, yellow and jaundice-like from all of the salt and smoke,
It began to weep with me as well,
As if to say, “I am sorry for your loss.”
I’d lost it.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC
I tried to conjugate it but it kept a solemn laughter.
The faux sweetness of it,
The hidden disease it ought to have been.
It laughed until its throat became raw,
And my ego, exiguous,
Down-trodden.
I cried to provide it and I that balance,
And with my eyes, yellow and jaundice-like from all of the salt and smoke,
It began to weep with me as well,
As if to say, “I am sorry for your loss.”
I’d lost it.