He holds her manicured hand and simply admits to it above all else: that he has been undeniably, blasphemously this seethingly, lividly breathing thing
That she truly knows no true bounds and not to ever again let his kinds of reprobate people cease her starry-eyed rise
– paralysed by these problematically peripheral people and she feels every next bit meandered terrifically, sickeningly within –
To the unfathomable and inescapable top, scatter-dashed unequally, wherein greater people are far more than forever willing to fail
Fail good, fail far better that that, actually – when the upper-hand becomes the only known hand going
And she turns to shyly, quite comfortably, rather devotedly smile
By the inevitable ending
And finally, wholeheartedly, intelligently decides to offer him her last piece of permitted time – stand-up and advanced piece of lady-like advice
All contagious aside typically envious eyes settled altogether fair discerningly upon her, while she walks ferociously away from the crime of a lifetime
Implores… restores herself
To come back no more
Folds the envelope and leaves to cope
There will be a rope around his neck before too long – his only known way to cope
For it seems to specifically be, he has deceived everybody
