I want to know
how
my misty muse
has been so
swiftly erased,
and replaced by
this
rusty ruse
that I hate.
Is it so much
to ask
to be glad?
How I wish I knew
The price.
And
is it too much
to have
just one laugh?
I want to know
now
the price of joy,
so I can
pay it in full.
Then I will say
just
how okay
I've become.
If I just had
this one
little price,
then I would be glad.
Because
when
that prickly ploy
gets dull,
I'll be done.
I want to know
how
I can pass on
this product
tomorrow and
let someone else
smile
for awhile
at good luck.
It's not so bad
if they
have a taste.
It's just that they might
not pay.
With
nothing to buy,
nothing's
left to waste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem