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 ^{(it's beta!)}

My name is Jack. I’ve had my ways, To draw a safe route through each day; To pull me out the other end, No thorns Upon my mindset tacked. Before my feet Slipped into slacks They’d tap the carpet Either side I’d dine with plastic culinary And flick each light switch Seven times. I’m sure you are familiar with The acronym they've coined for this But they do not have azure eyes Nor Altruism in their pills Nor honey In their stiff advice -An old chap, that I am, My pals- Though ever yet am I a fool For dames adorned with Scarlet lips And for this dame Was I a fool One Thursday evening Cold and crisp Now, I know who feasts on weakness Tastes the bronzing bite of bleakness -A tumour in my mind, as salt- The palate Of my spirit’s foe She gorged upon My ripened heart, As palpitations beat my nerves Three minutes Did I cease to breathe I looked at her She looked at me I tell you, It. Is. love. She healed me on a winter’s night And diagnosed my boring throe My routine did she soon Excite In place, another tumour grows.