The de ja vu of one just like you,
Makes me feel like a dunce; Investment
undo!
Repeat my fall, as you point to a future,
In stroking me gently, I let in your
nurture.
The mistake I have made again and again,
Never hardens against this ardour of feign.
And then the calls stop; sharp cleavered
sever,
Nudging you gently, but left on a tether.
You look for a muse and one to bleed dry,
But the poet is void; in a mortal high.
It trumps up it’s being; is pleased with
itself,
Your chaos, eternal, teeters on shelf.
And now I am scorned, there’s nothing
worse.
Get out of my head; extol with the verse.
Will I learn of the centric; the shells on
the rock?
In opening too soon, I’m left on the dock.
So I’ll be as honest, as I always am,
And declare that these tricks are truly a
sham.
I can’t be prey to this convenient
affection,
You won’t find me playing pyrite
persuasion.
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