Folding Foes, walk yourself down the Georgian line
Sweet savanna wrap around porches in summer sweat
Crushing companies sipping sweet tea on pedestals above me
Anchored at average is that old adage that it attached to the lattice that they try to get past us.
Nailed shoes to our feet and glued to our seat, living in lies and deceit, trying to force our defeat and to break the decree
Held solemnly,
And somberly,
By you
And by me.
Thee, the only lonely listeners of our own sweet soliloquies
In ripping tides of attention tearing through hate and affection,
Is found a pain never to mention for any chosen direction.
Now our learning gets lost in the lesson.
It started with tension, then moves to intervention, but ends with rejection.
Where now it lends to those friends that tend to your need to mend