There’s your pretense
Like sterling silver
Something precious gilded
Onto something cheap
Giving it value
There’s your opinion
Ignorance bonded with
Idiocy there’s your
Charade incapable of
Explanation and instead
Showing hand signals
Like a third
Base coach to
A hitter now
I don’t even
Know whom I
Loved because you
Don’t seem to
Be true why
Must I settle
For your fuckery
