A man hides many women in his heart,
Who he loved and hated sometimes.
His heart had been plundered many times by venomous eyes, and sweet scents—
Blood red lips, and wild silky tangle of hairs.
Poor man get no compassion from those eyes but scorn, no honey-like words come from those
lips, but wretched abuse—
No scent of flower, but in the gutter he had thrown,
An ugly poor man in love!
What a sight to watch! Cried a man from the crowd
Is that too much to ask for love? Wept the poor ugly man —
No one what to reply, so they all goes to their houses— drank some poison and strangle their
wife.
Then woke up the next morning tie noose on their neck, black briefcase of lost innocence and
hope, as they kiss the carcasses of their love goodbye and went out.
The ugly poor man still singing the songs of love which ends in tragedy—
They saw and laugh at him then march forward their black briefcase dangling, to the public
madhouse.
WILDsound Writing Festival 