The Clare it ty ties de lune, reflections on loons on a pond turned golden at night, at dusk, just soooo many goons meny men not even pretending sad mad bad with those younger than teens

On,y moon us when we say it.s okay!

That orb above never still yet so Movement men meant intent bad some Not all tie pre-teens in knots phys So meny men menTall they press up on So debttremendousTremble soo those Preyed on not a prayer in heaven or

Sadly on earth , from birth a time Less tale chase incest tail male fe- Male, allso beyond the pale, betrayal Of those we love, but such proximity To butt, any butt, the end is still The same, cast doubt on others to More victims, them to blame, not us We are meny manly strong disillusioned Fooling no one except ourselves we so Think we have outsmarted them, no, not The case , and now at our base basic Flawed pawwed patted fatted flirted t A point before losing our patience and So we strike time after time, another Roll, lne more dime, tossed into piles Chalked up to gain for us, no matter Cost, just not to be crossed, not bossed Flaussed yes, shiny grin , teeth, smile For your brother , mother, our secret, it Like all others, at all times were, are ok All this must finally stop, mend our meny Men thinking we have the right when we have Not, bever, ever, no way, not one time is ok!