queer-with-a-pen

the fool and the bard, parts 1&2

1. 

the fool remakes himself

into a bard

 

and no one laughs when

he says this out loud

because a crying fool

brings only melancholy and misery

 

and as for the bard?

well, the bard feels foolish

about so many things

 

the question still stands

begging for an answer

if loving you

was one of those foolish things

 

still, the bard would like to think

he understands what falling in love is like

if only from an artistic standpoint

like the poet to the muse

 

after all, hearts can’t be reasoned with

and this bard has made quite

a career out of being maudlin

 

welcomes fits of melancholy with open arms

knowing that a good ballad

a misguided declaration of love

is impossible to write without

have a good cry while doing it

 

2. 

and sometimes there is 

 so much hurt in those tears

that if feels like anger

but the bard does not know 

who it is directed at

 

and does that really matter?

for, while the anger of a poet

runs deeper than blood and bone

the love of a poet is

an infinite thing

 

maybe not a thing to say aloud

though, what is a bard without

the sweetness of his voice?

fingers tenderly plucking

at his own heartstrings

pulled taut again and again

 

nothing as poetic as that will

eventually break

even if the bard tries his

damndest to shatter knuckles

against his growing loneliness

 

because, sometimes, the truth

is saying that you’ve made him

cry and meaning it

when he confesses to missing

being no more than a fool

 

what does a fool know of love?

of heartbreak

of empty bottles 

and emptier promises

 

the fool knows nothing at all

and the bard would like that back,

so tired of collecting the coins

made from making a broken heart

sound like such a beautiful thing