- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Music From The Pit
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The downpour is sour. It soaks you to the bone.
The song you hear in your head has an ugly tone,
But it's a hit. So, you'd better get used to it.
It's the "Song of the Hour." No one gives a shit
About your meaningless life. It is the hour
That calls for action. It is time to rise.
Amid the sour rains, you can soar to the skies.
The song that plays in your head is a sour song
That recalls past grief, but it won't play for too long.
It's the "Song of the Hour," music from The Pit.
You stand in the muck, but you can rise above it.
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