@Fido,
Why am I cold and heartless and cruel
why do I badger the poor kids in school
who spill out their ink like their blood on a page
why do I seeth with anger and rage
-the answer for mercy is told
that when you get old you get cold-
cold and alone like a corpse in the grave
Gray, and pink with eyes all aglaze
foul smelling and greasy and needing a shave
and when you get old you get cold
for its bad when its warm to wear so many clothes
and your feet are all smelly and runny your nose
and the kids run half naked while your life's all spent
when you're old and your'e cold you begin to resent
that your words were too few to express all the charms
of youth in it glory and all the alarms
you feel at the children all torn up in harm
afraid at the life in them running from love
-When they should be dancing and laughing in cheer
bouncing and bragging and holding their dears-
but bound up in angst, and moaning in pain
letting it drip out like ink on a page
oh yes and it makes me feel rage
cause when you get old you get cold
and forget that the pain of youth is not done
but carried in the heart of everyone
and you only learn what you can bear
you only learn what you can share
and no one has the time for introspection
too busy with their own collection
of tiny troubles and little needs
that grow like children from magic seeds
but are not grown until they know
that hurt is how the human grows-
until they get old and grow cold.
I purely hate rymes and think they are the furthest thing from poetry. Hard to write a song without it though. Sorry.