I used to cry, scream and gag at the thought

Of not getting through to you, who I love.

An idea so fresh, now left to rot

Prayers and pleas from hell sent up above,

Poisons the messengers, kills all the doves.

Saved a bird who didn’t want to be caught,

Whose body rejected the warmth I brought.

The bird didn’t need to be saved at all

Oh, it was behind all the times we fought

Now I laugh, clip wings, and watch the bird fall.