Author Information
POOR
A fool got fooled further when I said I was poor
A fool who measures everything with the yardstick of wealth
I am poor, yes, I am poor and for true love I pray,
Everything else is in plenty and a lot do I spare.
Many a pompous and regaling party have I left
Where men and women gather too often to jest
And make merry with false smiles and trivial joys
I left them in my quest for the true and the rare.
I sit with the wealthy and elite of my time
They envy me for what I have in abundance with me
The women flatter me calling me handsome and great
While the men sit dazzled at my skills and my charms.
A maiden -- a doctor -- came and sought a dance
With me, saying I was like a knight of King Arthur
I looked at her and smiled with a polite "No thanks"
For in her my eyes saw only a time-passing glare.
I am lucky when it comes to worldly admiration
Praises and honours, prizes, adulation
Yet what I have been seeking all along is love
True love, seeking which, I am very poor even now.
