SorrowThrough sickness and health,poorness and wealth,real love is usually known.But we, my dear,share nothing but sorrow:cry together, smile alone.
Six Second Poem"We're all the same," she said. "Friend, tell me," she asked, "how are we different?"For six seconds I paused, then I said:Some of us ..love more than we hate,laugh more than we cry,work harder than we play, butlive before we die.Some of us don't. And that, my friend, is how we are all different.
First, I whip it out.First, I whip it out.Then I thrust itWith great force.Every angle,It penetrates,Until, with great strength,I ram it in!In the end,We are all satisfied,And you are set free.