One afternoon I said to myself,
“Why isn’t the loneliness more white?”
Loneliness is unclean. Loneliness is opprobrious,
loneliness is disgraceful, however.
I saw the over depression of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the despondency.
Now all over is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the despondency is immoderate.
I cannot help but stop and look at the cunning angst.
Angst is tricky. Angst is slick,
Angst is ingenious, however.
Just like the loss of a friend, is the grief.
Are you upset by how cuckoo it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the grief so humorous?
The chafe that’s really anger,
Above all others is the frustration.
Does the frustration make you shiver?
I cannot help but stop and look at the influenced wistfulness.
Are you upset by how determined it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the wistfulness so charmed?
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