Forlorn- and watch your tongue.
No where near bleak, no where near your too assumed...
No where near my dear.
The shade of pale painted and my tears your watercolor
Go paint your pretty picture
on your narcissistic cynicism...
on your canvas of obscure-
Your not that way,
but then again....
They wear you like their cheap cologne...
and you, you dip in the dime of the dozen
dirty words that are dirty mean
it's the thought that turns one ill
the remembered, forgotten
and left for getting...
what you find may never be real-