We are not fools--the ones who cry.
The fools are those not wondering why
or how or where the meaning's gone . . .
or when the devil silenced song
that played a life in gripping tones.
But life is memory still unknown
'till now, when watered cheeks are all
that's left reminding us of all
we had and all we were and all
the life we can recall
in yesterday.
Give me the fool who cries this way
And I'll show you the one who'll pay
the price for living happy then,
then stand to pay the price again.
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2 comments:
Joe- this one is good. I think you shared it with me when we were home, but I needed to read it to understand. I like all your arranged words :) but I feel this one today.
Mint fudge is the best kind of fudge...
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