If the catastrophe of war

Is to play the game to lose,

As the war is endless,

Then, logic is the prison,

And, freed is the man who fears defeat,

As he bleeds fighting on the street.


In the battle of the sexes,

The woman kisses her husband goodbye,

Before she dresses up for work herself.

As she zips up her dress,

Suddenly, she shivers,

“What if he never comes back?”


She lets go of a big fat tear,

Just like she did when she was a little girl

On her very first day of school

Faced with the unknown, fearing what to expect,

When she asked the help of a magic pixie,

For her fears to go away.


The heartbreak is the logic

That predicts the possibility of a last goodbye.

And, grows to further expect defeat,

As the heart becomes more vulnerable

To desire, love and belong.