With love for himself he sees not far as his eyesight will permit to carry.
An annual trio of misgivings and relation’s moral decadence.
And as I watch a self-destructive pattern unfold to limit happiness,
I can do nothing but laugh at tears that originate from his mistakes.

His mouth prone to a craving of falsehood cheats my trust in truth.
Festering lies of broken attachments that burrow inside my faults.
Yet he was never as clean as my aftertaste had been;
Unwelcome him down in me.

With pride in himself he allots negative time for the me that damages
pretension.
An unveiling of sexual misguidance that ruins all hopes of love.
And as I felt fingers of forced incentives dance all over me,
I was naive to experience and a conscience unmarred.

I can do nothing but laugh at your grief.
Mine was devised by you.
 
Copyright © negroshoes, All Rights Reserved