The Simple Twist of Fate


In this neck of the woods some are weak and some are strong
But most of all they are afraid of how things can go wrong
Like the sight of water leaking fast from under an old boiler
Not knowing where in the world to stop it from flowing over
Dank mattresses where some bodies have carelessly slept
Through those dim forgotten nights about which no diary has kept
A thorough prose at least to retain some vague traces
Of ages and sizes of young lips mounted on the faces
Beaming as the minds caved into the blissful state
Of an unknowingness dubbed as "the simple twist of fate".

The trials and tribulations of the rich get so etched
Into the feeble minds and the truths get so stretched 
We lose faith in the subtle benefits of being poor
Like folk songs with easy words that sound very sure
That life wasn't made just so to make lots from money
But to walk by oneself through that lonesome valley
Towards the light from the dark, to the warm from the cold
Until tired we might sit awhile and put on hold
The future till the limbs feel the urge to move on
Thinking about those who for some time have already gone.

ROMA, 20 9 2008