Stumble your Block, you ****** Impostor
Or how many of you you wish to clone
Eager to bend his Fan's Growing Angle
Of your Missing Point to leave him alone
If so Profit this Putrid Geometry
Where Lines divert to un-healthy function
Result - scribbled Mentionless and Phony
Which senseless end make no worthy Junction
If for once my Addiction fell for you
And haply take the Lottery you own
Shall no Fruit will bear; Nor Sentiments true
Of my Expression your Air-Bag has blown.
One's only way - to place a Stone on your Pane
Though address my Heart to cry you Insane.