Really.
Like opinions mean anything.
You know the ole addage,
everybody's got two things.
I remember Jimmy lying
face down
kissing the ***** flooded street,
both of his legs were missing.
It was a ****** mess.
I confess,
while he was screaming
for his Momma,
I was thinking,
what nerve,
those spoiled rotten *******.

So the old addage says:
"Grief is the price we pay for love."
Never knew how true it was,
until I had to grieve my love.

three hundred and eighty days,
yet still I grieve for what we had.

I do not regret loving you.
I regret how hard I loved,
that I'm forced to continue
paying the price of love.

the violin was playing out in the corridor then a faint drawn out sound
in walks in a passing fare maiden skin pale and fainting from the heat
an exquisite bar was serving drinks down at the Prior Square experience
a glance to the left you can see the scenic view of the ocean with seagulls

remember me in times like these the pressing heart to a sweet homily
there's power in a song as it hit the strings
elps one get along sought after cadence
do not be afraid of a vision for it will teach you of what is to become
silently at night in my bed I dream of a demonic presence taking me away and dropping me

Breath deep through each attempt of extravagance yet at a glance it fades in the sunlight
Brandished through the ivy dressed with a taste of salt pete sipping tea alone
we stand erected to embrace its logical persuasion through the village gate
best to comtemplate the given addage of brevity along with a glimpse of cadence

At night the villagers get together for a dance to celebrate the order of the day
pier long in the deep manifestation of an audience plagued with vast new ideals
decor of decorated lavish attendees in the Prior Square holing hands
times like these are but far in few between