The longer thou livest, the more fool thou.
I
Go hide! Go hide! But through the latticework
Of my upraised bone hands
I see athlete and statesman, priest and clerk
Step forth as deodands.
Risking more than they know of life and limb
In playing Peekaboo
Whose happiest chances couldnt be called slim
Ive tagged each: ICU
II
Cry; baby, cry!
Youve got two reasons why.
The first is being born at all:
The second, my peremptory call.
Cry; baby, cry!
Weep, baby, weep!
No solaces in sleep.
Nightmare will ruin your repose
And daylight resurrect your woes.
Weep, baby, weep!
III
Bah, bah, black sheep, you supply the needs
Plaguing mourners: stylish widows weeds.
Haute couture for all the fashion shows.
Black is the color of my true loves clothes.