To all your pithy troubles and woes.
Your hysteresis send me,
your hyerbols decends me.
All your hypocritical articulations,
All your presumptions and assumptions,
All the prejudged plans,
All the adorning fans.
It all rubs you up the wrong way,
And nothings going to turn you way.
The sour compress of a lack of rest,
The Zinging nature of a tortured best.
Can’t work on a hunch without any brunch,
Can’t rest your head till your six foot under and dead.
Wouldn’t cut the mustard unless it was in someones face,
Couldn’t say a nice word till the mornings reframed.
Lets face it,
just not a nice person to be around,
obnoxious and stubborn,
we all go to ground.
The centre attraction,
the attention deficit man,
although a girl mainly,
Just loves swinging dicks at a fan.
Escentric you call it,
quirky and wit.
But the rest of us sense it,
desperate and kept.