shimon weinroth Poems

I got old, doesn't mean
My juices stopped flowing
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Sighing summer hot and tired
Surrenders, gives in bows out
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Love is just another sense
Senseless though it be
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A thermometer
Placed in the orifices
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Inciting one to kill
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Do not mourn for me when i am dead
It is the coporeal being that has fled
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Each day
Grows into a melody
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Drowning us all
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In the event of nothing
Everything becomes important
As the world of trivia
Ascends the throne of sublime
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A passing comment shoots it down
A smirk, a sneer, a critics jeer
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