Oh bullocks!
I've woken up on the wrong side again
with a soggy look on my face and a tongue honed for malice.
If you see me in the alleyways,
spewing philosophical nonsense to any passerby, without a care what any say, drunk as the day,
with a crumpled up soul,
do not mind my tone, do not preach to me,
I only ask you pray for me.
Do not mind me cursing at the seniors, kids, reputable man, reputable sisters,
only reputable man I've known is my barber,
atleast he's not out for sole gain.
Do not preach to me,
all pleasantries sound like colorful dreams,
what good could your preaching do for me
or is it I who doesn't hear the words you speak,
I who's turned my heart to stone,
that even the sound of love hurts my soul.
Can you teach me, so I hear these words you speak with such fascination and light,
not concealing that love is all we really need,
went far out of sight,
so if you see me
with a sour look on my face, spewing curses and nonsense,
simply send me two spoons of your love and a cup of prayer.

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