Walking by the river bed,
Chardonnay held low
And a flung heart,in stead.
He said to himself,
It could be much worse,
Only if the heart
Didn't fret.
Stubborn it is,
Wants what it wants
.
Makes it evident,
The sorrows and pain.
Not like a river without seam.
The river takes it effortless, doesn't show.
Sorrow is very much the pain that flows.
