dawned upon me that something was up
and soon my sojourn into choppy waters will start
it may be true that thorough hardships last
but what mighty makes a foe so strong
would be weakness in a love beguiled fool
making sense out of this mess
playing house does make me mad
perhaps i fail to keep my accounts right
but i'll take a helping hand as is
subtleties are not my forte
though disguise is attempted
my contempt probably flows straight like an arrow
in medieval times i still live
to use arrows instead of caliber stings
but perhaps the mind remains slow
to a fact long well known
I'll really want to sleep with ease
but knowing MQ...its hard to say
a tease in fact, a jest in play
I'll call her Primrose, she's that to me in my eyes
is it wrong to flit from flower to flower?
perhaps it is in my nature
to shower attention on a seed
to watch it grow, with a gardener's ease
who worries day and night
about his love, his only meaning to life
concerned about state of life
tell me this:
bro, or a just friend in time?
