Repay me now with what i have not,
The things that I said I lost,
Though there is talk of second chances,
They are but mere pretensions,
I might want the world to sing,
A tune fit for my embracing,
But it is something one should cease to ask,
There might be others who needs the melody more than me,
I for one know this world is vast.
My rage is projected crimson,
But yet your cheeks are colored rouge,
My anger feels like a pent up volcano awaiting explosion,
And you just give me a slip listing out medications.
So let me smile in this narrative irony,
Of warriors riding “my little ponies,”
In my hysterical applause,
For I have become another lost cause.