Please Do

You never cried, you never froze

And yet how well your garden grows

You reap the fruits another sows:

I guess that works out well for you.

Suffering has served you well -

It's common but it somehow sells

So sing your little songs of hell and sell.

Hollow hopes and empty dreams

And blind pursuit of worthless schemes

That's all there is to life, it seems,

unless you prove me wrong - please do!