Worry would have me looking sullen,
On days I’d look at with an angle, obtuse,
Finding elements of surprise my life would let happen,
As I searched in the orange of the evening for a muse,
The dawn would subside all such desires,
Indulging me to binge in tea and tobacco,
Whilst urine painted dog designs on tires,
On walks that pained to digress into the morrow,
Rain would find occasional comfort between grains of sand,
Much alike the entrapment suffered by lust as it rests between thighs,
And I might as well exaggerate the gesture at hand,
To accommodate a symbolism quite bland,
Of rhetorical innuendo,
Drawing acute comparisons between remark and response,
Both, reflexes that worry my brow,
Giving room for great possibility; bon chance,
So drawn are you in verse,
Susceptible to a statement so terse.
On days I’d look at with an angle, obtuse,
Finding elements of surprise my life would let happen,
As I searched in the orange of the evening for a muse,
The dawn would subside all such desires,
Indulging me to binge in tea and tobacco,
Whilst urine painted dog designs on tires,
On walks that pained to digress into the morrow,
Rain would find occasional comfort between grains of sand,
Much alike the entrapment suffered by lust as it rests between thighs,
And I might as well exaggerate the gesture at hand,
To accommodate a symbolism quite bland,
Of rhetorical innuendo,
Drawing acute comparisons between remark and response,
Both, reflexes that worry my brow,
Giving room for great possibility; bon chance,
So drawn are you in verse,
Susceptible to a statement so terse.