pain

Pain

The pain of unreciprocated love

Is something that everyone knows once and

Fits this deep wounded soul just like a glove,

Holding the pierced heart in the bleeding hand.

In the end we all have to choose to die

Or find someone else we can crucify,

Forget your gender and render the sky

A new colour in your burgeoning eye --

You can live, just remember how to try,

Shrug off death and don't ever eat the lie:

We must try to free the pigs from the sty,

Seek out and capture, and shoot down the spy.