I’m thoroughly impressed here with you,
bowled over by this whole two-mile rescue,
now feeling like such a plumb right fool,
when we were always at arm’s length,
poking your bony fingers in my ribs,
while I attempt your best to hold my breath.
Methinks you’re starting a little to catch on,
someday you’ll realize I’m actually gone,
not a victim in your sweaty hands any longer,
aware of these hours speeding up and slowing,
we’ve all been past our own share as well,
adrift in yesterday, keeping today from flowing.
Last excuse was practically this one in reverse,
maybe next try you’ll allow more time to rehearse,
you can’t challenge every comer when nobody cares,
fallen as a helpless tree cast upon the ground,
desperately praying merely to your lonely self,
listening for any sign, but never hearing a sound.
If only emotion was your unresolvable problem,
and it wasn’t also that you are just too damn dumb,
without marking them sorry scholarships and degrees,
paying the way very far even beyond your element,
taken at risk for them fans’ drenched alter egos,
caught in the vicious tangles of your myopic merriment.
Sharwrong's Song 