It's curious
the machinations of discourse
When in one fell sweep of the tongue
matters can be set to ruin
It's spurious
the subjugations of remorse
When in one mad rush to be hung
favor can be set to swoon
It's morbid
the breaking of wills to beset another
While in the passing of days and ways
one aspires to ascend
It's torpid
the gladhanding of deceit my brother
While no matter the plays and lays
endeavored to pretend
Copyright: Brian Pellerino 2009
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