Gift to me gifts, sure! not your present pleas
-If truly ****-poor posture deadens Grief.
Wish duly this, you're not sure, pressing needs
It's to me this: pure, hot, for less than these.
Which doobie hits? Forgot your lesson, Steve?
This truly is, more, (not for questioning.)
Ne'er take me for the motley foolish things
Where late thee adored me, got me by the cruelest means
-There may be morphine by the tulip leaves.
Share, make me more, free not the ghoulish wings.
Swear they need Morning Time, it's the newest tease
Where maybe pure themes rhyme with the truest ease.