I laugh and I cry: A poem 

I can cook up what I want 

Sublime dreams my castle haunt 

I feel light as blackboard chalk 

for my battleground is a cakewalk 

There’s enough lampblack in my footprint 

for all that I did and what I didn’t 

Losses are just a matter of perception 

Lessons learnt are a grateful reception 

There’s simple energy like glucose 

Nasty cats in my brains I do dispose 

The stoic shovel has the pain in graves 

My humble ideals are not any man’s slaves 

Welcome, but do not ignite, in me, greed 

The buzz of seeking bees is no fodder for my seeds 

I only cry for those with the chill in their bones 

and for all those hurt by injustice’s stones