adventures in dysthymia

Saturday, November 07, 2015

Nothing in Common, a song-poem

Nothing in Common

I've nothing in common with you, my dear,
nothing in common at all;
You are the blithe springtime of the year
and I the cold wind of fall.

I've nothing in common with you, I fear,
for as you may well recall,
I'd far rather sit and drink my beer
while you yearn to dance at the ball.

I've nothing in common with you, and here
most likely is what would befall
if we were to whisper in a friend's ear —
you'd charm and I would appall.

I've nothing in common with you, it's clear,
the differences are not small;
indeed, I am inclined to cheer
at moments when you might bawl!

I've nothing in common with you, the mere
thought of you, perfect and tall
reminds me wherever I might appear,
folks tell me I make their skin crawl.

I've nothing in common with you, my dear,
and yet I long for your call;
no, nothing in common with you, my dear,
nothing in common at all.

Stephen Brooke ©2015

I wrote this with the thought of putting it into an upcoming novel, an eventual sequel to my Donzalo books. One of the protagonists writes comic plays and this might fit in as one of his songs.

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