passion

when I was young
I thought, “fuck,”
(yes, fuck)
I wonder when the stars are going to weep
and shower me with happiness?
and then I realised
it’s not them that can weep
that is only me

when I was young
I thought, “shit”
(yes, shit)
when will I return to find comfort
in the little things so blossom-like
as the prancing of a feline
through a flower garden

when I was young
I thought, “hell,”
(yes, hell)
I can conquer what ails me
and I can overcome what
albatross rests around my neck
only to come to find
an army of one is just a vulgar insult
but its passion is unquestioned.