Could God create a much better vessel?
With my own thoughts at night I tend to wrestle.
This stride you have, the sense of being;
At the same time as if normal, nothing spectacular here.

Maybe, just maybe I've got this twisted like a pretzel?
That was, until in my arms to chose to nestle.
From this unlikely chord my spirit does soar...
But from the other side, who'd know you where a whore?

I mean for attention that is; I know well how difficult you are...
But still, I had no idea this would be so taxing, by far...
I have to admit I can't afford you, I'll be bankrupt.
I simply don't have the time and patience for this dear.

Still, there was a time I though you where worth it. Silly me.
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END: It's ya boy streetPoet, Thx for listenin' :D
http://themisadventuresofastreetpoet.blogspot.com/