I can say I respect you

The man that you are.

With the drive of a mustang

That couldn’t get very far.

Within lines of grief

There is always a little lie.

A part of me I kept to myself

Like a hidden alibi.

There is always a moment in a day

Where I am weak.

There is a fragrance in every ‘I love you’

That we all seem to seek.

I button up my shirt today

Then put on my pants.

It was a day I decided to truly give in

To my undesirable circumstance.

What we have in our palms

Is hardly ever what we want.

It’s the asshole that runs away

That makes our poor heart haunt.

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