Go ahead,
blame me, condemn me, accuse me, stone me.
Pick your brush and tar me.
Was it not just yesterday,
that you did not allow the great Mary
to shed a tear,
and tore her reputation to shreds.
What am I but a tired savage
wallowing in the mud of your love.
But I laugh in your face, for you,
you are only living in a glass house.
No comments:
Post a Comment