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On wings of avarice this novice flies,
his heart yearning for illicit lies
to fulfill his wanton need,
of cupidity, and greed.
Each must choose his pathos!
The rising moon is a false rise,
that gives way to cheap enterprise
for markets on the red-light street,
where sex and commercialism meet.
Each must choose his pathos!
Pitiful blades and pills,
each medicine that heals, kills,
this is the edict of teenage decree,
this is suicide to a multiple degree.
Each must choose his pathos!
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Comments are welcome.
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Art is addicting, an addict am I,
truth is I, the truth am I, the truth a lie!
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He lived, yet was already slain
