A CYNIC SMELLING FLOWERS

a cynic will smell flowers

and then look around for coffins

the shield around their heart

is made out of iron that never softens

the bluebirds that bring joy

are only seen as flocks of vultures

the lucky charms for some

are superstitions in their cultures

the glass that seems half full

has spilled the milk of human kindness

the forest hides the trees

and they thrash wildly in their blindness

those lovely shooting stars

become cruel comets to destroy them

there's cackles in each laugh

so they are warned not to enjoy them

the hand thrust out in greeting

holds a knife meant to devour

the fruit inside is sweet

but they won't peel the rind that's sour

they won't suspend their disbelief

to see the hidden magic

and so they lose their childlike charm

and what could be more tragic ?

so when you smell a flower

and i hope you do quite often

please think of nature's wondrous joy

and not of some damn coffin