Wednesday, May 9, 2018

A Heart Born For The Fool's Paradise / Perdita Young

I seem to possess, alas, a fool's heart, 
Simple and naïve, not alert to dart. 
Fantasy and illusion its welcome food, 
Relieving the hunger of a retarded mind. 

Moon-gazing and wind-chasing, just learned, 
And being oft sent on a fool's errand. 
Tears idle vainly shed secret, time and again, 
For what reasons not always clear, like a chain. 

Such lack of social sense, so dull of defense, 
Indeed slow for society's pace and strides. 
For a heart so out of place, and easily bend, 
What would be better than to let it well hide? 

Better to hide it in a fool's paradise and it cherish 
Than to have it repeatedly hurt, break, and perish. 

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