I Am A Fool Again

This beauty is bittersweet

For the poet is the poet without a cause

And this divorce that is the world

Does it happen to us often?

And workplace suicide

Doesn't help the poet any

For where is the inspiration

That keeps us going?

I can't help but wonder about the news of a harlot

Who sells her soul for this craft

For poets are not the cool kids in school

For we are fools

And I am always the fool again

Am I married to poetry

In spite of this divorce?

For I am left with my birthday cake

With icing and all...

Will my philosophy be the same,

Or will it die?

For I am dead in this world already.