What was true lays in down, and defeated
I suppose, it was good to be needed.
But then kneaded and falsely given rise,
I left myself often open what for
Appeared as kindness but was just a door.
She exists, a constant performance in
Consistent adornment of consciences
Created to elude her lack of sin,
A future held back by present fences.
I suppose it was good to be needed,
Yet learn asking same to be defeated,
Microcosms of her alcohol rise,
History in short of a love less lies.
