Thoughts On Love, And Other Things

So he picks up his marker
To highlight the line
That all men are holy
All women divine

But the thoughts that he'd written
Where tainted with pain
He tried to ignore them
They followed again

So he chained up his longings
And no one could find
The power to read them
From deep in his mind

Now he's watched from the window
As birds disappear
Another wrong season
Another bad year

But through every long winter
He fashions his tools
To paint out of darkness
And write about fools