Acquired by the masses, knife nor death-edge subtle insinuation again
Against the faces of a pretty, pretty piano quay
 
When the ship sets sail – Soothes its very own bare-knuckle brevity once more
 
Ladies and mental-men with these over-emotional, cutthroat, serendipitous displays of wrought-iron affiliation, indeed – Many of them brought coquettishly back together
 
Till surreptitiously bringing with them
These non-sensical, blue-knuckle displays of boardwalk affliction
And, yet
Somehow, only Christ-upon-a-backward-standing-beige-blue-bicycle shall ever truly know how
That they shall miraculously manage at feeling fiercely fed-up…
 
Aside rather altogether wound-up, agitated and blissfully prepared to pray, both prey –
 
For their nickel-dime necks to bear the eagle-eyed weight
Of their multifarious worth
 
And, all awhilst, they strap steadfast, honorary, mile-a-minute smiles ’til pressed bare-naked and gleefully against
This tyrannical thing named
 
Pirates-At-Play-Pretend
Oh, pl=ease
Placing one mission-unlikely eye upon the death-
T
R
A
P
Prize
Of An Unkindly Century of 10
 
When the whipping weight of her fending pen is far greater than that with which she shall forever manage at blissfully recapturing
Aside riotously reimagining
It all at Face evaluation
Narrowed streets of cob-webbed stone – Seems the deeper she goes, the better she knows…