Philosophers can never have wives
They question and rampage you
Trying to figure out the W’s and H’s
Torment you to the extreme
Without counting the ticks
They corner you with their curiosity
Finds sublimity in repartees
Embalms you with a notoriety
Or some not-good emotion
You feel dejected, lost, and futile.
They summarily reject you
Take their bags and go
Shake off your courage
Or try dashing off
Thinking it's insane to cross you
You cling to them
Like creepers blooming
Trying your best to suffice
Their inner torment
To notice you losing the sanity
Alas you realize it’s vain
You are not a blister
Not a tapeworm or a canker
But cancer or a Capricorn
Sworn into their life to be invisible
They wail at things incomprehensible
And heats up at the slightest trigger
Everything is insane
Swirls around in a whirlwind
Incredulous and undecipherable
But they make the most passionate love
Something that conquers you deep
And makes you need them
To love is to give they say!
Yet, Philosophers can never have wives!
There, you are! cracked open!
A nut, a shell, a pod, or a peanut
Swelling up, you notice
It's not you who is insane
But a hell let lose upon you!
And yet I speak for them
Philosophers can never have wives!
They are not born to share
Every day is a lesson
To lessen the other beside them!