POEM: POOR IDIOT

She was as clumsy as an elephant,
As black as ink.
The muscles of her brawny arms are as strong as iron bonds,
Yet she strokes them on me.
Dad is gone for work, so
Being your being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours and times of your desire.
I have no precious time at all to spend, nor
Services to do till you require.

Why is the poor boy an idiot?
Because he has no mother?! Shit!
It is sweet to dance to violence and trumpets
When love and life are fair;
Seeing enemies turn best of friends
Haters turn lovers.
Hu!

He can look through the heavens and
Tell the stars,
Observe their kind conjunctions and their wars.

He’s beginning to be strong and fearless.
Be not proud, he would say to the wicked and heart full of hatred;
The devil himself who command them all was ones conquered. Remember!
His dream thought dead, now alive
He now refer himself lethal
Willing to do for his personal interest
When he was dead,
I hope, it may be said
His sins were scarlet but his
Dreams were archived.