Irony

Love is real, but only for me.
Want nothing of it. There is too little.

This only
little line in the earth.

Me, I want money and a hard life.
I want the death of a lover and to outlive lust.

I want harmony still in it.
And drugs I won’t enjoy.

Mostly, I want everything you want
to come to me instead.

And for you to look down at me
from whatever post you'll receive in heaven,

wanting me to learn, hoping I will
learn to avenge you.

This only
little line made sand.


Read the original: April 7, 2005