has hit me at last
I toil it as it boils me
to be burnt so fast
In many faces and hearts I search
but hardly do I see
The multi-layered sulky pill
made to cure me.
At first it tastes so utterly sour
when the earnest words in waste
Yet when it’s leisurely chewed for hours
Much more bitter it tastes.
And I hear she curtly whispers
with a wink passed in haste,
“Is it you or the pills
thus bitter more in taste”.
“Baby neither of those!
what else could bitter be most?”
To reach that chummy and sweet kernel
ages it may take
The ups and downs ; seemingly eternal
cause me writhe with ache
I bear it all with mirth
Just for its own sake
I care for her fancies’ dearth
cause she strives a remake
The bliss I earnestly seek,
I may never win
The twists fate hath on its peak
might bequeath my grin
Fine, you call me a dreamer
who pleads for Godot’s grace
Faith shall be my soul mate
till its heir fits in place
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