So shall it be
The blatant misunderstanding of words meant well
The actions of swaying love trying to grasp its root
Vehemently swinging for stability
Hold my hand… please understand
So shall it be
The shrewdly made up mind sparked to react
Upon sentences and bare tones you start to attack
Even plainly though brutish the wish is made
That you’d pick the meaning and not the way it’s phrased
So shall it be
Seen on the clearest of days
There’s nothing can be done, much to my dismay
I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, I’ve said time again
You’ve driven me to anger; I’ll make love to my
pen.
