You want what I gave up on,
so it’s good to see another try.
An awkwardly performed Figure 8,
crossed with a diamond necklace,
dangling in your glaring teeth,
showered by aphid infested roses.
You don’t like what I don’t like,
but it’s good to hear another opinion.
A vile country ready to exploit,
we haven’t talked about today yet,
with the same energy and knowledge,
that got us to this fabricated lead.
You think the same as the lines,
so it’s good hearing it poorly exercised.
A drawn-out joke selected from ours,
laboredly told because we aren’t able to,
in a most torpid but strident manner,
as this jester covers his public anger.
You bathe in what I have rejected,
but it’s good this isn’t about me.
A gadgeteer in all delirious smiles,
piling high a new gold-plated garbage can,
with last month’s sorry misconceptions,
for artworks before their paint is dry.
You bring us all your caring and love,
so it’s good we get a few seconds chance.
A speedy tuxedo clad shrill carnival barker,
showing us who we are and why we’ve come,
and why now there isn’t any more fortune,
except for the one with the loudest voice.
Sharwrong's Song 