There is a lot of poetry In me That dies everyday With your memory With the scent of your deception But that's alright Everyone deceives Them lie underneath Them lie above Them lie But that's alright Everyone lies.
Should I write in italics, Maybe in bold, Maybe I catch your attention, Maybe I don't, Are you funny? Are you sad? Are you a contradiction? Or just a little grey? Lost in our affliction, Like a drowning dog, astray.
Have you realised? I am still in italics, Do you see the Vatican? Do you see Rome? Do you hear the pope? But, do you see them? The paedophilic scope?
Maybe the robes I wear, Are too young to be, They don't hide the black from White, They don't know The wrong From Right.
But that's alright, I use roman, From bright, Maybe, That light, Blinds your sight.
