The ode to the humourless has no rhyme
because somewhere within might be a crime.
The humourless man just cannot see
that laughter is where all life should be.
He sees the world and all its woes
and is overwhelmed by agonies throes.
But to stand in the face of all that’s wrong
and respond to it by singing a song
or laughing so loud that its powers quake
and around its edges it starts to break.
This strength the humourless man can’t see.
Pity, mayhaps it would set him free?