Love is such
a disappointing love,
God might drop a
trick on us from above.
A lot of us fly
the love flag,
might as well be
the end that jag,
or the oily dirty rag.
I float my flag
real big,
cause at times
I feel like the pig.
I'd like to kick azz,
however I pray this will pass.
Love your fellow human beings
or clip on devil things,
and all the misery hate brings.
I get to wallowing in affection,
because it's the
wisest connection.
This den is no real
place of love bliss,
it's a garden of
who's azz to kiss.
Everyone wanting to
be the big dog,
instead of the
fly on the hog.
Goes the same
in this domestic game.
Everyone has a tangle,
some hidden angle.
Oh the games people play
can't believe
a thing they say.
It's best to
keep out of their path,
or suffer in the wrath.
One?Gem