The Landlord

flashbacks decorate a guilded sect
delicately redeemed by sole proprietorship
and in the vastness, we let ourselves slip
carelessly blinded by each maniacal attempt
She came and went;
with tough love torturously exempt
“we get the hint”
on pins and needles and without aim we carefully went
retracing our steps to recover time spent
lost and somehow sheepishly shy of wit
nights tumultuous to the Seer
within waves of loss she repents
reconciling a lonesome gift
in a loft of Misfits
so hindered by a lowly shift
God grant our spirits one last lift
as we seldomly refuse to fully give two shits
we reap what we sow in former repetitions overused
we hit all time lows as the landlord tends to his stoop

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