So many screams I have in my head
Man it’s a madhouse
You could call up a Minyan for Kaddish
So many deaths I have in my head
And not a Penny to rent a home or buy bread
Poets are doomed to be outcast from big cities
Unless they are heirs or beggars
Who speak the truth
And then no one listens to them anyway
Mostly they are laid off from work
.Or quit out of principle

מודעות פרסומת