"on a chair facing south of the walls/ into and out of the windows/ where a portrait of sunset is painted" I love those lines. The feeling of this poem is very intense, and I feel like in writing it, you fluctuated between watching the idealist and being him. I love the idea that an idealist can be a coward. Oh, but I thought the line "count the days to, even" is a little awkward. I know that you're refering to happiness... but it just doesn't fit for me.

Anyway, lovely job.

sad and pwerful.. nice repitition of the title

Wow. I love this format. Well, it's plain and all that but... first it was ah, idealist like you were poiting out someoen worth noting and all that. Next ah was about pointing at the idealist in not a very nice way. Next was mockingly and the last part was downright insulting. Nice go bub!

Heh. Saddening, I guess, but it's dark too. And I love the self-mocking tone of it.