Seduced and betrayed by words.
The world is a hopeless mess.
My heart is bruised and hurt.
My soul can’t bear such treason.
My body couldn’t care less.

My thoughts won’t go into verse,
my verse refuses to rhyme,
my rhymes are adverse to reason,
and reason’s deserted my mind.
Lust is in full season.

My poetry is on the ropes.
My life isn’t any better.
There is no good. No hope.
Hmm. Great beach weather.

- Paulo Henriques Britto