Thy Flame Burns and Chills Me Cold
Thy flame burns and chills me cold
Thine youth young yet too old
Thy pain, a pleasure
Thine poverty a treasure
Thy love hath to much hate
Thy ordinary ability is profoundly great
Thy rage with wrath with so much equanimity
Thy honest word is tainted with duplicity
Thou art easy when thou art mad or hard
Thy face so beautiful, although it's scarred
Thy heart is weak, but beats so strong
Thou art always right even when wrong
I do not understand so I understand
I love thee for a mad man loves what he doth not understand
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Added by Poetry Lover
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