You ask me to consider,
and I did I must confess.
But after all my careful thought,
it still looks like a mess.
And the excuses that you’ve given,
well, they seem a little odd.
After all it’s not your place,
to try and play at God.
And there really is no reason,
or any that I can find.
To justify the things you’ve done,
to the others of your kind.
And still it is, or it seems to me,
that you’re just so unaware.
Or maybe it is, as I believe,
that you really just don’t care.
as always,
wordsy.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "a thin trail of whispers
across a wandering mind
faint flashes of fantasy
that I often find
merely jaded shadows
of who I used to be
they fill with words, my pages
for all the world to see"
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