I have noticed
that the lunatics
who can carry
a sweet tune
along with their sorrow
tend to walk this earth
with much more peace
than those who only
know how to scream.
For such as they
tend to flame out
by twenty-seven,
while this life
is more intended
as a slow burn.
There is no
four-leaf clover
in the meadow
that’s going to save you.
There is no
perfect storm
that can cleanse
your dirty soul.
There is no
pot of gold
in that rainbow
you’ve been chasing.
There is no
point in saying
that these riches
hold no sway.
We must all
find true wealth
within ourselves
before we bathe
in a fountain of youth
ever after.
We must all
create good fortune
through hard work
before the spell
we cast of luck
will have a chance.