No, you are not the entire sum of your being
This will, as these harrowing years pour terrifically on in, distill itself within
— The Real People —
Please, cherish those flagrantly begotten demons, release just enough of them to suit to scale
Settle say when
He is attempting to make the most of prioritised fiction…
Although it is and Never Shall Be all of Him…
Why on earth would he ever treasure to need it to be in any manner whatsoever cold-cash in hand driven!!?
See, he is finally free, relatively so
And Yes, this peculiar pen – driven to its own preposterous state of unmitigated perfection – was in fact sent to soar
Gladly
Oh so unmatchedly, unnerving naturally
To pour akin to both good aside bad aforementioned upheaval
So, let it tend to steal, let it posthumously perhaps peel your wanton eyes away – no monetary pay, please
For it is utterly unaccustomed, sparringly, fair sparingly dangerous
The all too unwelcomed struggle to softly suggest to survive, to nestle agonisingly against an honest man’s enduring ability
Right by a green-monstered eyesore
We deplore the pressure at ease
Like I say more than most, prioritised yet rather well disguised
Making it up from the inside looking deeper

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