“I started that shit!”
Yes. You did. And wonderfully so!
How bitter then to now hear
how this cruel mortal wrenches it awry.
I would be amiss and wrong
to play my tin soured tune
before that which causes gold to tarnish
in the presence of perfection.
Forgive me! I am drunk.
Those flowers entice me and their nectar dulls
those senses that reminds me of my place.
Even as they awaken what slept too long.
I can’t help it. I am trouble in flesh.
A poor helpmeet that guides into the ditch.
But look what I have found in the mud!
A chance to dare. Of course I’ll take it!
You wouldn’t suffer me any other way.