mistakes

above the clouds i sit,
looking down on man
what a funny sight it is
to see what people can

to fall in love
and get ballard-y
whine n sigh n lay sleepless
calling it 'ecstatic';
before touch is touched
they get all touchy

and then man becomes;
it wears off, idiotic romance
he runs behind kinship
that makes him cry
with humour

im not among them,
them unlucky humans
who get passionate
about passion
and draw an ideal playmate
and the waves crash upon
the castles

i get no feeling,
of longing or being lost
wanting to be found
to find
i get to be here, n laugh at them,
them unlucky humans

can they somersault above clouds
n stars alike?
or live without
the key-less locks?
have they tasted freedom
sans responsibilities?
we sell them out here-
a good price at that!

and bah! these humans
them unlucky fellows
what do they know
of what good is down there,
what good is love
that makes u weep
even so
what good is love
that makes one happy
the few i'v seen, curiously
watched
the castles washed away,
but else ousts sand
man becomes
but wiser
that, i'd like to see
and man, that lucky bastard
gets to love, true