Curious of Misery

I can be so curious of misery,

At the sopping plants that limp miserably,

I can be so curious, so to death

At the pale skeleton, who mark my breath

If I cannot be curious of misery

Then the world is feigning so miserably

For if I cannot live for my curiosity

Then may the skeleton’s scythe strike quickly

I can be so curious, till I reach misery

Yet I will not preach to be so miserably

I can be too curious, at my own curiosity

That the skeleton halt, with curious verbosity

To dreadful exchange, a quarrel of the age

That literal death, speak the page

Of better things to bubble curiosity

Like life and things and happy human phase

But he withers happy talk when I come to old age

And he watches curiously as I ponder when I ash away

And he cannot help but wonder, why it is so curious,

Why things must pass away