Sunshine (new poem)

There is no new thing under the sun;
Only enterprises half begun,
Aborted endeavours to do good;
For only harlots try to be prude
And only junkies try to stay clean,
So we are all blind fools trying to glean
Pieces of our selves in the gutter,
And the parts of our souls which clutter
The drab dustbins of Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.

There is no new thing under the sun;
So we all get drunk and have some fun,
Yes we get naked and we get high
But we don’t feel free and we don’t know why.
We work to get rich and then we die
Before the gloss on our lips is dry.
We try to delay the ferryman,
So we sacrifice our soul to Pan.
We are shadows of Humanity.
We are absurd — we are Vanity.

There is no new thing under the sun ;
Our existence is a grey thread spun
By the cruel hands of Destiny,
Which is what we call the villainy
Provoked by our own absurd mistakes.
We eat our ludicrous tales like snakes,
Hide ourselves behind a rotten bark
And fumble in circles in the dark
Cadaver of our Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.

Tim, October 2007