Sick sweetness taking beatings, and still shoulders rumble.
Meek teeth passed lips, and words so soft to avoid being trouble.
You can't help but be who you are, and were modeled.
A clay beauty, ****** through air, for those hunters and shot all.

To pieces, my missus, you must lift and stand and shake.
The rest of the day, and must portray, tween dawn and dusk at best.
You're a profound expression, eureka not lessened, and you heave to and fro.

The ocean ebbs, and sadness flow, inundated even at rest.
But chin does bob, and body does buoy, as you float and kick feet in dark mess.
Above all water, you pretend not the bother, and laugh smile with all feigned jest.