08 Sep Candide

Those seeing the world in ugly color know not glory
To diminish the spirit . . . a wicked mistake to author
For many a critic made by staying unwed at forty
Having grown weary refusing what all had to offer

To dwell down here as if above it . . . to defy measure
Spins a lie that one transcends creation as spectator
I met a peevish girl bored by the planet and pleasure
For her I pen imprecations for I unceasingly hate her