Kill Joy

Killed by the joy.
It was all too much.

Hadn’t lost his touch.
Or the crutch.

Doesn’t everybody cry?
Sometimes.

In the morning.
Dreaming of you.


Like kids in the dark.
Looking for a spark.

Seeking sanctuary.
And a glittering prize.

We don’t deserve love.
He said.

Then smiling.
Was dead.