Given ***** and money and *** I scoff,
These things remind me of my void filled life
The sense of Dread and Fear of Pain could stop
If only I had ways of making mine
The life sweeter granted by your embrace,
It is the Dream I wish upon myself
To wake up every day and see your face
To grant me a sweet release from this Hell.
Things could and would only improve with time
Some time for us to learn and share our love
Life would become a show of Art and Rhyme
Poems of our days would banish Bad Blood
Metaphors of our love would saturate
This earth we trust could not would not berate.