A Rhyming Idea

 

Boys so curious fumble-fumble

gay little girls spin round and round

Thus until the sky shall crumble

n' the burden of us cracks the ground.

 

Should the world meet its undoing

One last light will shine so sheer!

–What's the idea?-

Wealth or power or spineless wooing? (nay!)

La poesia, la poesia!

 

Words in prose and words in music

Shall supersede the mortal end

Through rhyme and stanza, verse and lyric

in one last unison we shall defend!

 

Fumble-Fumble, Crumble-crumble

Beep-bop, Hip-Hop, Folk and Samba

Rapper, Rocker or Baritone

all of them surely condone -one idea! THE idea!-

La poesia, la poesia!

 

All humanity’s misgivings, all the crimes and all the sin

All the ugly and wicked things; before “La Fin” appears on screen,

boys shall fumble, girls shall spin as men and women sell their skin.

The world’s atrocious; but deep inside ever so amply wells a spring!

 

The fountain of creation shall never go dry!

Who drinks its water shall know no fear!

No faux words they shall utter for within them shall lie

only truth! -The mere idea!-

La poesia, la poesia!