The ironies of life are really quite cruel,
They singe at the soul, and yet remain darkly humourous,
To observe the parallels running in two different lives,
To see and do nothing, for none can be done.
The obsessions run deep, that is plain to see,
Both appear to function, but the signs are everywhere,
A single minded bug that refuses to let go,
In speech, in writing, in choice in life, it manifests.
I knew of my parasite for it is hard to ignore,
But to see it there as well, it’s the funniest thing,
The upturned lip was the first reaction,
What it meant is still rather a mystery.
Or it could have been hurt, hiding behind a silly façade,
It might have been sadism, for misery loves company,
Or maybe meek surrender to a hopeless cause.
Whatever it was, it needed release,
Hence this prose, this mangled piece of writing,
Hope burns eternal, but I wish it would snuff out,
For your sake and mine, the embers must die.
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