Your promises are sparkling as our dreams
but you fail your own self when you reach that throne.
Pity on you when you smile your cynical self
on the common man who pays for your debt.
She nourishes you and gives you wings to fly
but you fail her when you see just curves in all that is feminine.
Cursed are those eyes that can only see flesh
the living soul inside is more precious, you fool.
Can you find a more tender, more pretty scene than kids
then from where are those demons sent to abuse these kids.
Every other person who can’t see their smile and their sweet talks
rocks are better my friend, they can be carved to shapes.