When you haven’t placed yourself in recline,
now completely dumbfounded by her unique beauty,
you of course seriously lack,
always back to the anointed eyes,
if only you could honestly see through them,
and also that sorry mess you got in tow a safe distance.
Not realizing her supposed hurt and pain,
are actually from your own you contort inside others,
without really listening to those shared experiences,
like crying in the rain or while laughing,
we simply mix emotions to conceal our burning sorrow,
exactly where your words destroy your pesky actions.
My God can forever rule over your miserable case,
He savagely bites down and doesn’t weaken to let go,
as a mad pit bull hardly even concentrating,
upon filthy blasphemous pages sopped under a flood,
then shredded inside of my blessed jet engine,
obviously ignorant about your eager turn to play unfair.
This plain clue should have reached instead,
of continually inhabiting a more preposterous extreme,
in order to avoid those sad truths buried against time,
parents greatly helped to forge with you in concert,
yet all participants direly refuse to acknowledge,
since it would mean the tragic end of their pathetic dream.
Sharwrong's Song 