*

Think mind may have forgotten? 
        Of course not! Memory remains freshly rotten;

Lack luster words crammed down throat... Don't you know dear, karma
meanders around longer than
artic cold!

| | Oh What | | arduous youth turned to grudge this man can
hold, I shall remain
one high praised goat. Quietness
upon curvature lips show
none dote. Lines
reflected of departed shall be red as footnote.