"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

November 30, 2006



There was ths boy, he cried, he cried,
You'd probably think some-buddy died,
when he slept, he wept,
as he called, he bawled,
and everybody knew why.

Was no secret, no great tragedy,
no long lost love that made him saddy,
he was just a lonely guy,
living out a harrassment of sorts, not gladly.

when he was happy, he'd shed tears of mirth,
and when blood ran, he'd feel the pain,
and cry
and cry.

we tried to show him beauty, he felt overwhelmed,
we showed him true suffering, he felt suicidal,
we showed him the banality of 60 tv channels and nothing on,
he wet his face with the water of bore-dom.

we killed a puppy in front oh his eyes,
he shrieked and died of empathy,
then we made him eat flambe canine with a dressing of vinegar,
he passed out with the joy of it all.

And yet he cried, we knew not what to do.
We got him porn, and he thought we were being so sweeeeeeeet,
made him pop some X,
that's not all it takes.

[He finally got a shrink. Yeah, I know, such a pain.]


MISSquoted** said...

i wish you did NOT know why he cried...
then i could attach orr-like brilliance to him [catch 22 anyone??]

Saturday Night Takeout said...

Major Major: "Trust a woman to completely miss the point... of no return"

[Ok, he didn't say that, but I think he would :P]