As I'm retracing thoughts back and forth,

I court discord through gaping jaws,

This talk's a sport, on days I'd really rather not report.

But here I am again, don't know how to make amends,

I just hold my breathe and then play pretend.

Far fetched among the text that I've regressed,

Heart of gold with ribs abreast my treasure chest.

Change is easy at the precipice,

Bend the common law to fit the purpose we deem relevant. +

The benefit of sedatives circumvent the medicine.

Tennyson, tentative with the page and pen,

Again I'm holding thumbs while my eyes begin to pendulum.

I waste my words with ones not even worth mentioning.