Not All

Not all poetry is passion
Not all tears are mixed with rain
Not all love is pure; old fashioned
Not all poor decisions bring pain.

Not all sunsets are hued pink
Not all lost loves get renewed
Not all dead skunks stink
Not all clumsy drivers get sued.

Not all noble deeds are feted
Not all nomads live in tents
Not all quotations get repeated
Not all dents can be unbent.

But every foolish thing I say
Will be written on the sky
And I’ll pay a month for every bad day
I must live before I die.