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?