Apr 5, 2014
Forever Tuesday Morning
Depart thou not! For thee I'll badly pine; I'm not the kind that likes to be put down. Thou wouldst become my figment Colombine If I be sole inside with Pierrot's frown.
I craft no singing-in-the-rain cliché, Instead I hide within my dwelling meek. I haven't seiz'd the guts to go away; The world is wickèd for a man so weak.
I'd give up ev'ry thing I own for thee! Now humble, I consume a nothing pie. Must I await our meeting foolishly? I pray, yet mine entreaties but belie.
I call thee rose; thou prickst me with thy thorn. Without thee, life's forever Tuesday morn.