A Random Piece
If they shall seek me underground,I will not be found
Should they think me in the air,
I will not be there
In the sea will they now search?
Behind the pews of every church
Or perhaps they'll lay a trap
That shall catch me as I nap.
How foolish in their wonder
Will they pace about and ponder
Chasing what has never been
Chasing what they think exists
Passing over kith and kin
To illumine what was missed.
But I kid, I jest, I joke
'twas for a fool the game I wrote
And now I'm off to hide again
From those fellows yelling sin
Holding up bows armed with crosses
Dressed in miters, robes, and stockings
Chasing what has never been
Chasing what they think exists
Passing over kith and kin
To illumine what was missed
Poetry by M. Gegishov
Read 861 times
Written on 2005-08-09 at 05:40
Tags Happiness
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