The Tragedy Of Humanity Is Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

The tragedy of humanity is
We keep no secrets from the dark.
To watch them spark
If I had a conscience
I'd light a large pyre and watch it burn.
But darling, I lie.
The tragedy of it is…
If I had a guitar, I couldn't make it sing.
I could only make it cry.
Whistle like flames hot for you.
But at least I'd try to be your friend.
To watch with the barflies
The beauty behind your eyes
Smoke smoulders into fires uncontrolled
But like I said,
The tragedy of it is
I can't play guitar. I'm a drummer in my soul.
I can't hold a tune; just the background, please.
The tragedy of humanity is
We keep no secrets from the dark.
Simply to watch them spark and unfold
And burst into flame
If I had a conscience
I'd light a large pyre and watch it burn.
Every night at your feet for a better and better cause
Hmm, for a love like yours…
Darling, a little black gold
It's all I ever dream of on the dark side of the moon.
The tragedy of it is…
If I had no conscience
We could dance all night and day in the penny arcade.
And no one would ever lose a silver nickel or dime.
We'd be just playing for skin on skin.
A pyre burning my soul till there's nothing
But ashes and smoke and humanity erased
Till the end of days.