Now that I have my first verse written,
I feel good about this crap.
With these words you have been smitten,
I have lured you in my trap.
Where are the worries and the cares?
I laugh at death and so should you.
My mind assumes all lofty airs.
I place all virtues under taboo.
This is how my fourth verse starts.
Nothing fancy, just nonsense.
From common rules this verse departs,
I keep my readers in suspense.
Shall we move to deeper waters
where air is fresh and whether sunny?
Only one thing really matters –
is your purse filled with money?
Now, I may have lost my senses.
Forgive me, please, if that’s the case.
To hell with wisdom and pretenses.
Tell me the truth I have to face.