Sadness. A tiring word indeed
Strange melancholy like a weed.
A queer exhaustion in bloom
Floating above a dark cloud of gloom.
By faith, I don’t know why I am so sad
But it looks everything is happening bad.
Yet, life goes on like a spinning thread
A sumptuous meal tastes a rancid bread.
It is but a phase we all pass through
A time we don’t know what to do.
So, sail across it with a patient mind
Soon everything will turn kind.
