by cricketjeff on October 9, 2011. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
It strikes the young and old and in betweens.
With symptoms that nobody understands,
We shake our heads and wonder what it means.
You’ll see the victims sitting on their own,
With tear-red eyes or wreathed in foolish smiles.
They touch the greatest heights that they have known,
Or write the tales that misery compiles.
What can we do? No man has found a cure,
It sometimes fades and leaves a tender glow.
The lucky few will find that they endure
And day by day their happiness may grow.
The ache of love, our greatest gift and curse
A slice of Heaven, of Hell or something worse!