Talk not of people how very sane;
They tear and burn, they droop inflame
Figure not how soon, they drift away
They were not yours, they go astray
How fine the fickle minded brain !
It tickles, turns and rocks and rains
Inferring merely in whims and charms
Reckoning unknowing at a single disarm
Misfired flames that bring to ruins
The gentle laughter into heckled fumes
Fuming rage that never could ****
Yet, had enough to sincerely reveal
Displaced prejudice or hurtful losses
Not the flower, that I knew apostle
Sincere my wishes, apologies true
I beg, conclude and give in to you