April Fool

He's like a little boy
Without much control
First he loved
Then grieved in missing that love
and finally
Missed missing the love
When all was healed!
On the first day of April
He sews himself a sonnet
With ink and the needle of a pen
it reads the name of a year
Etched with meaning
And tricks himself to feel nothing
With these words on his lips

I am a ball of yarn
Black cat death plays around
'Till I unravel and end
Limp in the teeth
Rending the sky
Breeding water drops
Lacerating the haven
Of Society
With realizations
Of selves in servitude
To separate the ashes
From the rain
To invent a new quest for truth
Pretending a different stance
To be the April fool