In the absence of sense

All eyes turn to you, and all the wonderful, exhilarating things you do. We can’t help but stand aside and watch. Hands tied in such polite company.

Poetry is not my forte, though I have read a number of collected works, but they were all written by a drunken degenerate, and womanizer. Though the writing, apart from the writer, was interesting and made me think. That’s a real skill that is, to separate the artist from the artwork.

Chat later, kids are on a rampage!