no karmic addition
I’ll call you to frution, for my ways are resoute.
Guarding it up with solid green eyes…a strength they all salute.
Blockbuster flim is my cover or turtle shells on skin
You’ll always think that you know best..but I’ll tell you what mood I’m in.
And when It goes down…
Ill pull you to fruition.
My ways, being diplomatic, are always no use.
Trying to reverse blockbuster life
Away from William (or Mary) or a Literary recluse.
No civil marchers, I stopped reading out loud
Or driving by your house
…When my feelings needed a push
When my face needed a smile…
I stumbled upon her, you in a shroud
A cover, concealer, now I call you to fruition.
But I’ll slink off alone with no karmic addition.