Twisting thoughts ransacked my mind through the night.
Six a.m. not a wink was batted.
Struggling passions tatter my heart and soul in their fight.
Next day no work mattered.
“I hate you!” to both you and you, I cried.
Make me choose between passion and peace.
By you the truth was told, I lied.
Take my chances with poverty and pain.
Peculated passion I steal
Progressive pain I sooth
Peaceful pandemonium I skill
Prosperous possibilities I see
Pity politics I sneak
Paralyzed pansy I subsist
Peaceful poverty I suture
Pious pessimism I swear
Pathetic pondering I surmise
Putrid potential I save
Pampered pardon I salvage
Partisan pacts I sell
Parental pageantry I seek
Pale panache I show
Parlayed pendulum I slave
Pacified perception I stick
Personal perdition I seize
Pestering pestilence I sense
And I sleep with death’s final call
